


I Knew You Were Trouble

by madlaw



Series: All Shoot All The Time [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Awkward Flirting, Canon Related, Canon-Typical Violence, Drugs, F/F, Falling In Love, Her Name is Root, Hospitalization, Kidnapping, Light BDSM, Missions, Not Really Character Death, Oral Sex, Rescue, Restraints, Root is jealous, Sex, Shaw is jealous, Strap-Ons, Tasers, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Fisting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-07-18 01:23:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 48,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7293754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madlaw/pseuds/madlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Root and Shaw fall in love.  It's painful and hot and inevitable.</p><p>My goal with this series is to track the Canon of the show but fill in the blanks of Root and Shaw's relationship.  I started it as a way to recover from the devastating end.</p><p>I hope you enjoy it!  Leave comments and let me know, I'm always looking for good ideas.</p><p>As of 11/11/2016 there's been an extensive rewrite, so if you happen to find yourself here again check it out.  It keeps evolving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Assasin & The Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Then why are you the father of a seismic shift in intelligence, forced to live in fear and anonymity?...You're the man who sold the world. Just to the wrong people. I will get access to the Machine Harold.”
> 
> "I am the best friend, the best support, the best partner you will ever have. And definitely the most fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little short and not too exciting but I realized I needed a little background in order provide perspective. I promise, it gets better!
> 
> Please let me know what you think, I'm always looking for new ideas.

Root’s an assassin with wicked hacking skills, extremely thorough when she sets up her hits. She does not discriminate and will kill anyone for any reason for financial gain.  Root doesn't exactly enjoy killing, but it doesn't trouble her either, never feeling any remorse or guilt over anyone she eliminates. 

Harold Finch is a rich genius programmer.  After 9/11 he dedicated himself to building a system to catch terrorists before they attacked.  He created an artificial intelligence designed to detect threats to national security and sold it to the government.  The AI actually detects all threats, but the government is only interested in those relevant to national security.  Eventually, Finch understands the lives of ordinary people are just as important and the AI, who Finch calls the Machine, begins to send him the social security numbers of those “irrelevant” threats.  Finch and his employee, John Reese, investigate those threats and attempt to save the intended victims.

 

* * *

  

Root is hired by a client, Peter Matheson, the campaign manager for Congressman Michael Delancey, to find a patsy to take the fall for Delancey’s murder.  Matheson is Delancey’s former business partner.  While Delancey was running for Congress, Matheson took charge of the business and accepted bribes and authorized the use of inferior materials during a construction project.

During Root’s operation, Finch receives the patsy's number.  In their investigation Finch and Reese unravel the plot and save him.  Finch also uncovers the hack that generated all the information framing him.  Thinking he’s found the IP address of the hacker, Finch follows the trail to the computer where the hack originated.  However, the trail was deliberately created by Root. Harold realizes he’s the one being hacked.  “Program is sophisticated.  They’re using a worm to infect any device that’s connected to our private network, including our phones. They’re listening to us right now; destroy your phone!” Harold manages to deactivate the network before Root finds the library’s location, but the equipment is compromised, forcing Harold to go mobile. 

Realizing she could be exposed, Root kills her client, eliminating all lose ends that might lead back to her.  Finch finally tracks the location where the hacks originated, but it turned out to be the dorm room of a student on winter break. 

Root contacts Harold through his laptop and introduces herself, telling him she’s acknowledging a worthy opponent.  Root has discovered Finch’s identity, as well as the existence of the Machine and the method by which it detects threats.

 

* * *

 

 

Root devises a complicated scheme to lure Harold out, putting a hit out on herself, knowing Reese and Harold will find her.  In her role as intended victim, Root spends extensive time with Reese and inevitably finds Harold.  Root kills a former intelligence operative unlucky enough to be with Finch when she kidnaps him.

Root figures out why the Machine can’t take direct action.  Finch's programming parameters only allow it to provide information.  It depends on human agents to decide whether to take action and, if so, to do it themselves.  “If you want to make something that understands human behavior, it has to be at least as smart as a human.  You created an intelligence, a life, and then you ripped out its voice, locked it in a cage, and handed it over to the most laughably corrupt people imaginable.” Root intends to find the Machine and set it free. 

“Everything has a flaw.  You know that, Harold, and like I told you, I'm awfully good at finding them…You may have told yourself you were helping people, but the real reason you built the Machine is because the world is boring.  Human beings have come as far as we're gonna go.  I want to see what happens next.”

Realizing there’s no point in pretending he doesn’t know what Root’s talking about, Harold explains why he restricted the Machine’s power.  “I spent years wondering how people could be so cruel, petty, so selfish—and then I'd think about how you could change them.  Fix them.  And that's why I've sealed up the Machine. Not to protect it from the people I was giving it to; to protect it from me, from people like us, from the things we'd do with it.”

In her continued quest to persuade Harold to help her, Root explains to Finch her motivation to free the Machine.  “We've managed to perfect the apple—a genetically modified version that never goes brown.  And yet, we still haven't upgraded human beings.  The human race has stalled out, Harold.  And from what I've seen, most of its rotten to the core.”

Knowing Harold will not be so easily swayed, Root decides to show him.  “I told you, I don't want to control your Machine…We're here to observe another kind of code…The bad code.” When Harold insists their views on humanity differ, Root scoffs.  “Then why are you the father of a seismic shift in intelligence, forced to live in fear and anonymity?...You're the man who sold the world.  Just to the wrong people.  I will get access to the Machine Harold.”

Capturing and torturing a government operative, Root kills him after she finds out what she wants to know.  Looking at Harold sadly, she tells him, “That's who you gave your Machine to…Violent and predictable people…But you must see I'm on your side.  I am the best friend, the best support, the best partner you will ever have.  And definitely the most fun.”  As Root attempts to take Harold to the next stop in her search for the Machine, Reese arrives, saving Harold although Root escapes.


	2. No. 1 Fan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re Sam right?”
> 
> “I read your file, and I’m kind of a big fan. So I really don’t want to hurt you.”

Undeterred, Root continues her search for the Machine and finds evidence it might be part of a program called Northern Lights, a covert operation designed to protect national security.  The program originated with the Intelligence Support Activity, a group run out of the pentagon.  They built a facility and named it Research.  Root suspects the Machine might be providing the intelligence Research uses to detect threats.  Further efforts to obtain more information are frustrated by the Pentagon’s sophisticated security system and firewalls.

But Root is able to learn an ISA agent, Sameen Shaw, presumed dead, is alive.  Shaw’s investigating the ISA in an effort to uncover information about her partner’s murder during a mission for Research that turned out to be a set-up.  The ISA ordered Michael Cole eliminated for asking questions about the information being provided to operatives in the field and investigating a man killed by Shaw, Dr. Aquino, whom Cole suspected was a patsy and eliminated for reasons unrelated to national security.  The ISA also ordered Shaw killed in order to tie up any lose ends.

Root investigates the circumstances surrounding Aquino’s death in order to bolster her next cover identity as Cole’s informant.  Under the guise of being Cole’s source, Root meets with Shaw to obtain the name of Aquino’s contact within Northern Lights.  Root opens the door at Shaw's knock.  Shaw strides in immediately scanning her surroundings for any threats.  "Any chance you were followed?"  Root reassures her.  "I don't think so, but I haven't been in the field since I was at the farm.  You’re Sam right?”  Usually Shaw hates the nickname, but she doesn't correct her. 

Not sensing any danger, she puts her gun on the coffee table, takes off her jacket, and sits down across from Root.  Normally, Shaw never puts her weapon down in the presence of a stranger, especially when wounded and vulnerable to an attack, particularly in close quarters.  But Root slips under her defenses seamlessly.  Shaw takes a moment and studies Root.  She has the most arresting and clearest brown eyes she’s ever seen and she feels something in her connect with Root like a magnet, instant and immediate.  But Shaw doesn't do feelings so the moment passes without acknowledgement.  

Shaw looks at her and Root can't drag her eyes away from the intensity she sees there.  She glimpses something in Shaw's eyes she's never seen before and can't explain.  But she knows she'll examine it later.  Usually, Root doesn't have trouble adopting whatever cover identity is useful in a given situation.  She’s adept at faking emotion and anticipating which buttons to push to manipulate her targets.  But from the second her eyes lock on Shaw’s, something changes.  No matter how much she tries, Root doesn’t see her as a target.  She feels something connect with Shaw like the last piece in a puzzle.

Feigning ignorance Root asks what happened to Cole.  Although Shaw tells her he was killed, she refuses to give her any information, instinctively not wanting to place Root in any greater danger.  "The less you know about all of this, the safer you'll be.  But I do need to know what he talked to you about."  It doesn't occur to Shaw she normally wouldn't care about collateral damage. 

Mesmerized, Root has a fleeting thought that maybe she's not as in control of the situation as she thinks.  In order to put Shaw at ease, she reveals what she knows, confirming Cole’s suspicions Aquino was not guilty of funneling money to Hezbollah, which was the pretext used by Research when ordering the kill.  The money came from the ISA.  Its apparent Aquino’s only sin was being involved in an operation so sensitive the ISA couldn't leave him alive.  Root explains the Northern Lights program, wanting to know if Shaw knows Cole's contact within the program.  

But before Shaw answers she hears a sound coming from the bathroom.  It's a metallic scrape.  She ignores it the first time, but when she hears it again she grabs her gun and gets up to investigate.  Her first instinct is to keep Root safe.  “Stay here. And keep away from those windows.”  It never crosses her mind the danger might be behind her.  As she opens the bathroom door, she sees a woman bound and gagged in the bathtub.  She hesitates, baffled, never even glancing back.  The woman is Cole’s actual source.  Before she puts it together, Root tasers her from behind.  She then drags an immobilized Shaw onto a chair and zip-ties her. 

As Shaw comes to she realizes, in retrospect, it was foolish to leave Root behind her.  When she heard the noise it immediately should have occurred to her something was wrong.  Normally, she would’ve ordered Root to open the door at gunpoint, keeping her covered.  But something about her disarmed Shaw in more than the literal sense.

Root doesn’t want to hurt Shaw and her tone is somewhat flirtatious.  She actually looks at Shaw with adoring eyes. “I read your file and I’m kind of a big fan, so I really don’t want to hurt you.  I just need the name.”  Although Root’s infatuated, she won’t let it interfere with her hunt for the Machine.  When the flirting doesn't get her the answer, she tries to entice Shaw with information she desperately wants. 

“You really have no idea what you’re caught up in, do you?  Who you’re actually working for?”  She finishes restraining Shaw, but leaves the zip-ties rather loose. She doesn't want to compound the effects of the taser and impeding her circulation might leave permanent damage.  She leans against the back of the couch, smiling like she has all the time in the world.  “Did you honestly think the source of the numbers was Guantanamo?  Some sad taxi driver rotting away in a cage somewhere?  I mean, you should know torture almost never produces good information.”  Almost as an afterthought, “Well, almost never.”

But despite the betrayal Shaw remains loyal to the ISA and says nothing.  Almost reluctantly Root reaches for an iron she had set to heat while Shaw was still out of it.  As she approaches, Shaw regains limited mobility.  “Sadly, we are on a bit of a clock.  Wilson’s men started looking for Veronica here three hours ago.”  Wilson’s the handler that betrayed Cole and Shaw; his men are looking to eliminate anyone potentially connected to Cole's investigation.  Testing the iron and finding it sizzling, she sets it down next to Shaw. 

She kneels intimately between Shaw's legs and unbuttons Shaw’s shirt, pulling it open to reveal her bra and chest.  She leans back and rests her crossed arms on Shaw’s lap.  She takes a moment to admire the swell of her breasts and for a moment she's distracted.  She pictures what it would feel like to lower the strap of Shaw's bra slowly, caressing her skin, leaving a trail of kisses behind.  But Root has an unwavering focus to find the Machine so she sets those thoughts aside.  

“Now, Aquino was hired to build a home for something very special, something I want to find.” Picking up the hot iron, she holds it millimeters from Shaw’s breast.  She hopes desperately Shaw understands she _will_ hurt her.  “So you’re going to tell me the name of his contact.” 

Finally speaking, Shaw locks gazes with Root, “One of the things they left out of my file is I kind of enjoy this sort of thing.” Shaw never lies because she never cares what people think or feel and she prefers violence to deception.  Root sees the truth in her eyes and the slight smile on her lips.  Delight shines in Root's eyes.  “I am so glad you said that.”  She leans in and whispers seductively.  “I do too.”  

But before she lowers the iron to Shaw’s skin, an alarm goes off.  She'd routed the camera feeds to her phone and is alerted someone’s approaching.  Indisputably regretting the interruption, she pouts. “And just when we were starting to really connect.”  She gathers her things and arms herself.  She heads for the door and hurriedly tells Shaw, “I’m sorry, a little rude I know.  We’ll do this again soon.”  Root means it; she’s not going to forget about Shaw.

As she leaves, Root realizes she might have the information she wanted if she hadn't spent valuable time talking to Shaw.  The time would have been better spent, and probably more productive, if she'd immediately skipped to the torture part of the program.  She recognizes the aberration in her behavior; she’s never made this type of mistake before.  Something about Shaw got under her skin and lodged itself there. 

Root is indifferent to people, perceiving them as a means to an end.  Clinically speaking she's probably a psychopath.  But she has to admit it’s obvious Shaw’s different.  Somehow she penetrated Root's defenses and Root wants to explore that connection further.  So she hangs back, ready to step in if Shaw’s in any real danger.  She’s still the key that may help her open Northern Lights.  Plus Root can’t find her again for some fun if she’s dead.  

A few seconds later three operatives enter the room and receive instructions to eliminate Shaw.  But they don’t realize until it’s too late there’s plenty of room between the zip-ties and Shaw’s wrists, enough for her to have mobility, but not quite enough to pull her hand through easily.  But when an agent leans in to inject Shaw with aconitine, a deadly neurotoxin, she’s able to yank her left hand out of the restraint and grab the gun he carelessly has shoved into the front of his pants.  Root already has her gun aimed, finger on the trigger, but in the split second before she fires, Shaw shoots two of the agents, the third running for cover.  Unexpectedly, Reese arrives and shoots the third.  Root leaves quickly, knowing Shaw’s safe with Harold’s helper monkey.

The last time Reese saw Shaw, there was a misunderstanding, and Shaw shot him.  So Reese approaches her carefully.  Shaw still has the gun in her hand.  “Can you do me a favor? Can you not shoot me this time?”  The irony isn’t lost on Shaw.  She’s wary of Reese, who has helped her twice, but not of Root, who she had no reason to trust.  Aiming at his chest at point blank range, her hand steady, Shaw tells him impassively, “Give me a good reason.”

It’s only when Reese points out the syringe sticking out of the back of her shoulder, plunger almost depressed, that she lowers her gun.  Even though he saves her life, Shaw remains suspicious of him, only following him reluctantly to meet Finch.  Finch explains about the numbers.  He shows Shaw hers, hoping to bolster his credibility.  He reveals Research as she perceives it doesn’t exist and tries to convince Shaw to hide from the ISA or they will succeed in killing her. 

Indifferent, Shaw explains she never had use for friends, but Cole was an exception and deserved better.  She only needs to stay alive long enough to find the man who gave the kill order, the mysterious Control.  Shaw rebuffs Finch’s offer of help, refusing to even take his card. 

Although Shaw finds and kills Wilson, she remains loyal to the ISA and turns over the only copy of Cole’s research.  Despite her loyalty, Control issues another kill order.  An agent finds Shaw and injects her with the aconitine.  Shaw drops on the street.  Reese and Finch are monitoring her closely, knowing the ISA will come after her again, sooner rather than later.   They have a contingency and when Shaw is poisoned, the EMT coming to the scene is a previous number.  He injects Shaw with the antidote as well as a sedative.  For all appearances, Shaw dies.

But despite all their efforts, once Shaw regains consciousness she pulls a gun on them and refuses their help again.  “Trust is overrated.”  Taking their phones, Shaw leaves them stranded at the cemetery, although this time she accepts Finch’s card.  As she drives away, Shaw thinks of Root, still not knowing her name, but determined their paths will cross again.  She sets out to find her.

 

* * *

 

Something’s wrong with the Machine.  A virus has been uploaded by a company called Decima Technologies.  The Machine is being buried under an avalanche of false data and stops sending Finch numbers.  As he looks for a way to counteract the virus, a clock appears on his screen, slowly counting down from 20 hours.  He has no idea what will happen when the clock hits zero.  But the Machine manages to send Finch one final number belonging to Ernest Thornhill, the CEO of a data entry company.  Thornhill bought several payphone companies in New York State.  Finch and Reese visit the company but fail to find Thornhill.  Finch is puzzled.  The employees seem to be taking data from one computer on one day and typing it into another one on the next.

Concurrently, the government is also searching for the source of the virus.  The Machine has stopped sending Research the relevant numbers.  Root’s been working inside of the government program and learns the Machine is under attack.  But Thornhill doesn’t exist.  The Machine created him to protect herself from the virus and Decima.  Root also figures it out and calls Finch.

“What did you do to it, Harold? There's no time to be coy.  We both know the machine's under attack.  What I don't understand is why a robust system with self-annealing properties isn't defending itself against a simple virus.  Did you injure it, Harold? Is that why it can't fight back?... You know, we can fight this thing much faster if we work together.  There's only a few hours left till something very bad happens.”  But Finch refuses to accept her help.  “What about your loyal protector?  May I be blunt, Harold?  John is capable at certain things, but his skills aren't gonna cut it this time.  He will never completely understand the larger picture.  Not like we do.  Have you two even found Ernest Thornhill yet? He's an interesting guy, isn't he?”  This peaks Finch’s interest and he asks Root what she knows.  “You show me yours, and I'll show you mine.  Talk to you real soon Harold.”

Root contacts Finch again, but he keeps it a secret from John and goes to meet her.  When John goes to Thornhill’s apartment he finds Shaw.  While tracking Root, Shaw learns Root’s tracking Thornhill, so she’s been following the trail.  But before they can compare notes the police appear and arrest John.  Finch had called the police and reported a break-in so they would arrest John and keep him out of the way.

Root’s uncovered Finch’s Achilles heel, Grace.  She was Finch’s fiancée before he realized being with him could get her killed.  The government was tracking anyone involved in the creation of the Machine so Finch faked his death.  Grace still lives in Manhattan.  When Root sends Finch the message to meet, he immediately realizes Root is at the park across the street from Grace’s apartment.  He meets Root in the park.

It's cold and windy and Harold shivers slightly.  The sky is overcast but as he looks at Grace standing across the street, he forgets all about the cold.  “She's lovely, Harold.  Honestly, I don't know how you can stand to live without her.”  Agitated, Harold looks at Root.  “You try to harm her in any way…”  But Root interrupts him.  “I don't want to hurt Grace.  I'm not a sociopath, Harold.  Believe me, sometimes I wish I was.  The things I've had to do would've been so much easier.  I don't like taking lives.  But I will.  Because I believe in something more important.  I believe in your Machine.  Tonight at midnight, when the virus reaches zero, a certain pay phone will ring with the most important call in history.  But you already knew that, didn't you?

I think Decima knows about it too.  They're trying to crash it, Harold.  Trigger a hard reset.  When that happens, the Machine will call a pay phone.  That's what you coded it to do in the first place, didn't you, Harold?  Whoever answers that call will have full administrative access.  Ask any question, get any answer.  The world's secrets laid bare.  Decima doesn't want to destroy your Machine.  They want to control it.  But together, we can save it, Harold.  Or I can go meet Grace for coffee.  She thinks I write children's books.  You can either save Grace and the Machine, or you can lose them both.”  Coerced, Harold goes with Root on the condition Root doesn’t kill anyone.  “Please, Harold, call me Root.

So if you're like me, and we both know you are, you designed the machine so that a catastrophic crash puts it into a remote debugging protocol, a God Mode that gives the admin full access to all of its data.  That's what Decima's after.  And that's why they wanted to kill Thornhill.  He was buying up all the pay phones in Manhattan, but they stopped him.  I don't know about you, but I don't really want to see what happens when an evil multinational becomes omniscient.  But why would you leave it so vulnerable? You made the Machine to protect everybody.  What did you do to it that it can't protect itself?”  Harold remains moot.  “Let's try something simpler.  How vulnerable is it?”

Harold’s been thinking of the implications of the very problem Root’s describing.  What could the potential fallout look like if Decima gets control of the Machine?  “After the virus crashes the machine, whoever answers its call will have unfettered access for 24 hours.”  Root wants to know which payphone the Machine will call, but Harold’s not really the trusting sort and he doesn’t believe Decima knows about the failsafe.  “I think they know enough, Harold.  They're guarding every pay phone in midtown.  So It must be somewhere around here, right? If we go to your one true phone, we'll tip our hand and they'll kill us before it even rings.”

Harold and Root return to Thornhill’s office where they realize the Machine has hundreds of employees reentering its code every morning so it doesn’t forget.  Harold programmed the Machine so every night at midnight its hard drive is completely erased, except for the relevant numbers and its core code.  Root’s horrified.  Thornhill’s offices are basically an external hard drive, the Machine’s survival mechanism.  Harold finally grasps the implications of allowing the Machine to fall into Decima’s hands.  He leads Root to the New York Public Library to intercept the Machine’s phone call.  Decima appears along with Reese and Shaw.  Finch manages to splice the phone wires, so both Root and Reese end up in God Mode.

Finch and Root track down the man responsible for building the facility housing the Machine.  He’s murdered before he can tell Root the Machine’s location.  Harold finally admits he knows where it is and he heads there with Root.  The Machine is housed in a facility in Portland, which was set up to look like a nuclear processing facility. 

But Root doesn’t know Finch also programmed a failsafe into the Machine, allowing it to take action in a response to a direct attack on its servers.  The failsafe was triggered.  When Harold and Root arrive at the supposed location, the Machine is gone.  It shipped itself over several days to an unknown location while Harold stalled Root.

Finding the location empty, Root’s overcome.  Devastated, eyes tearing, Root whispers, “Where is it?”  Harold apologizes.  Even after everything's Root's done, he feels empathy.  

He tries to explain the Machine is now freed.  But Root recognizes the lie in his words.  The Machine still cannot take direct action or make the ultimate decisions.  Looking around desperately, Root asks the Machine, “Where are you?  Please talk to me.”  But the 24 hours have expired and Root's no longer in God Mode.

Receiving no response, she turns to Harold, “You lied to me.  I believed you.  I believed in you.”  Looking at Root with empathy in his eyes, Harold tries to talk to her, “Ms. Groves...”  Aiming her gun at Harold at point blank range, her voice rising in anger, Root interrupts him.  “My name is Root.”  But before she can fire, Shaw appears in the doorway, shooting Root in the shoulder.  Root collapses, the gun falling from her hands. 

Standing over a kneeling Root, Shaw keeps her gun trained on her, aimed at her head. Shaw knows there was ample justification to kill her, considering Finch was in immediate mortal danger when she fired.  In fact, Shaw had made it clear to John she was going to kill Root the next time she saw her.  But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.  She knows she risked Finch’s life when sparing Root's.  Although rare, she could’ve missed; it was a tricky shot.  Finch was standing very close to Root and the distance from the door was significant.  It was certainly possible Root could’ve gotten a shot off as she was hit.  

Shaw didn’t know what she would find when she came through the door.  She had a second, maybe two, to assess the situation.  Never lying to herself, Shaw examines her actions critically, wanting to figure out why her mind and body rebelled in the split second before she pulled the trigger.  She simply didn't want her gone.  But that makes no sense.  They’d only known each other a few minutes when the shit hit the fan. 

Shaw has never felt a connection with another human being.  She trusted Cole and considered him a friend, but when he asked her to believe in him, she couldn’t do it.  She simply didn’t believe in him or anyone except herself.  But when she lowered her guard the moment she met Root, something cemented itself between them.  Immediately, Shaw decides to jackhammer whatever that something is and leave Root far behind.

But caring about all human life, even Root’s, Harold has John patch her wound.  By that time Root sits quietly, staring blankly at nothing in particular.  As Harold and Reese talk, a loud alarm goes off.  Shaw immediately grasps the necessity to move. “That’s not good.  We should go.”  Root shows no reaction, continuing to sit passively, saying nothing, clearly not caring.  But as Shaw turns to leave, Harold tells her “She comes too.”  Incredulous, Shaw’s eyebrows shoot up and she gives Harold a withering look unmistakably asking, _Are you crazy?_ Adamant, Harold insists, “If we leave her, they’ll kill her.”  Shaw stares while Harold guides a catatonic Root up from the chair.

Root goes along quietly, offering no resistance.  But before they make it to the door, government agents arrive, resulting in a standoff.  Shaw’s actually a little unnerved by Root’s unresponsiveness and unconsciously places herself between Root and the agents.  The light in her eyes is gone.  The vibrancy that Shaw associates with Root is no where in sight.  It's like someone hit the switch turning out the lights.  Shaw refuses to believe she cares one way or the other, but she doesn't turn away and concern is clearly written on her face. 

The situation ends in a stalemate and Harold walks over to Root, turning his back on the agents and silently placing his hands on Root’s back, gently guiding her to the door.  Shaw keeps herself between Root and the agents until she clears the door.   Shaw knows it's not Finch's safety she's thinking about.  But she rationalizes its only because Root seems clearly incapable or unwilling to protect herself and Finch wants her alive.  Once Root is out of sight, Shaw backs out the door, leaving Reese to ensure the agents stand down. 

Harold decides Root is psychotic and after everything Root did, Shaw can’t exactly disagree.  But she wants to, which she finds unsettling.  She renews her determination to forget about Root.  She isn't allowing some psychopath entry into her life. 

In her catatonic state, Harold commits Root to a psychiatric institution.  Wandering the halls aimlessly, its obvious Root’s given up on everything, maybe even her life.  But when she passes a pay phone in the hall, used by the patients to contact their families, it rings.

Root walks toward the phone, lucidity returning to her eyes, but not daring to hope, and picks up the receiver.  As she brings it to her ear, she hears tones and the Machine asks, “Can…you…hear…me?”  Alert, allowing herself a tentative smile, Root answers, “Absolutely.” 

Root instantly becomes the Machine’s most fervent acolyte, its interface, following orders without question, and the Machine becomes Root’s God. Root's finally found something to believe in, something not plagued by bad code.  The Machine instructs Root to stay in the facility while she learns the value of human life. Root obeys, only escaping when the Machine tells her it’s time.  As she leaves the asylum, Root doesn’t kill anyone, although she leaves significant carnage in her wake. 

Once outside, she thinks of Shaw, looking forward to their next meeting. Soon.  Very soon.


	3. The Assasin & The Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I knew you'd come back for me.”

The minute Shaw opens her eyes, she feels someone standing over her, and instinctively she knows it's Root.  As she hears her voice, “did you miss me?” Shaw has time for only one thought before feeling the taser current racing through her body, _I knew she was trouble._ Groggily waking zip-tied to a steering wheel, she's not surprised.  After all, it's Root. _No iron in sight at least_.  Evidently, tasing is Root's idea of a greeting.  But it really has to stop.  If Root is going to pop up at unexpected and random times, she’s going to have to learn to knock.  Shaw decides she'll teach her the hard way.  She deserves some payback for Root’s assaults.

Root tries to be conciliatory.  "Sorry about that."  Shaw deadpans.  "Which part? The tasing, the drugging, or whatever this is?"  Root knows it's imperative to the mission to convince Shaw to help her. "I had to make sure you'd hear me out.  She needs our help and I figured you wouldn't come willingly."  Fair point, Shaw would have shot her on sight.  Maybe.  But at the very least there would definitely have been some sort of violence.

In spite of it all, Shaw's intrigued.  "She?"  Root's more than happy to explain.  "The Machine's given me a mission and step one is to team up with you."  But Shaw stubbornly refuses despite her interest.  "I'll pass.  Trust issues.  Besides, the Machine gives missions to Harold and the government--relevant, irrelevant.  Why would it be talking to you?"  Shaw realizes she's getting sucked in despite her repeated protestations to the contrary.  

"Because now, there's a third category.  Things are evolving.  And my relationship with the Machine is a little different.  As for trust issues, I'm happy to take the first step."  Root uses her knife to cut the zip-tie securing Shaw to the steering wheel.  "There's a gun for you in the glove compartment."  But Shaw's holding the knife to Root's throat in a heartbeat.  "Thanks, but a knife will do just fine.  This is the part where you give me one good reason to believe anything you say.”

Shaw briefly wonders why she's even asking.  She swore she'd kill Root when she found her and she had no doubt she would have found her eventually.  She'd made it her hobby. But then the next thing that comes out of Root's mouth shocks her.  "October 2, 1988.  You took a road trip with your father to watch the Houston Oilers play the Philadelphia eagles.  He bought you a sweatshirt--"

But Shaw doesn't want to hear anymore.  "Don't talk about my father."  But she can't help herself.  "It told you that?"  Root understands that she has this one shot at convincing Shaw.  "The Machine trusts me, even if you don't.  You spent years working for the Machine and She was never wrong.  If you don't help me, someone might destroy Her and innocent people will die.  Forget how you feel about me.  How would you feel about that?"

Shaw realizes there's something disconcerting about being being so close to Root, their breaths intermingling, eyes locked on each other.  So close she can feel Root’s exhalations.  She feels pin pricks appear along her arm and heat suffuses her skin.  Suddenly their breaths sound harsh in the confines of the car.  But it isn't Root's words that convince her.  It's her eyes.  Shaw still hasn't lowered the knife and only three inches of air separate them.  She's been watching Root's eyes as she talks and she sees something.  Some promise Root's giving her and she knows Root isn't lying.

So Shaw sets aside her anger.  "Okay.  I'll forget how I feel about you.  But when this is over you better hope I don't remember."  The truth is Shaw no longer knows how she feels about Root and it makes her uncomfortable.

Root's relieved.  She doesn't understand why it needs to be Shaw to help with this mission.  Lurch has the same background and there's no unique ability that Shaw's participation will provide.  But she's not looking a gift horse in the mouth.   _Shaw is hot._   Unlike her, Root recognizes all too well the urges stirring within her.  She also recognizes there's so much more to it than desire.  There's something between them and Root knows its dangerous.  

She's committed to the Machine and she can't afford distractions.  There's more at stake than just the lives of individual numbers.  She's not sure what yet, but she trusts implicitly in the Machine and will not disobey her. 

But there's no controlling her thoughts and Shaw's been in too many of them since they met.  Root knows Shaw will never hurt her, will never lie to her, will never try to change her...  She doesn't know why she believes that, but she does.  It's like the Pythagorean theorem.  Inexplicable but no less true.   _Well we can at least have a little fun before we're done._

   

* * *

 

Finch and Reese realize Shaw's missing.  John tracks down video from outside Shaw's apartment and it shows Root kidnapping an unconscious Shaw.  They also have a new number so Finch starts investigating while John searches for Shaw.  He promised Root he'd kill her if she ever came near them again.  Shaw wasn't around then, but she keeps turning up and John likes her.  She's a soldier like him and they understand each other without having to talk or have feelings. John knows Shaw can take care of herself, but Root's unpredictable and that makes her dangerous.  He will kill Root the next time he gets a chance.

But John has to rethink the situation when Fusco finds the car Root used to kidnap Shaw.  "Guy over there says this medical supply van was just stolen by two women driving that car.  One waves them down, engine trouble.  When he goes to take a look, the other one knocks him out with some kind of martial arts.  I hate to tell you, but Root and Shaw, they're working as a team, a scary one."

But as far as John's concerned, Shaw may still be in trouble.  Finch agrees and John continues his search, ignoring the obvious.   

 

* * *

 

Shaw knows it won't be long before Root gets on her nerves; the woman elevates annoying to new levels. She has Shaw tailing her around town, making enigmatic remarks about their mission and smiling in that way that turns everything she says into some kind of sexual innuendo. But it’s not in Shaw’s DNA to follow anyone around blindly, even a woman as hot as Root, and she’s had enough. “So this mission we're on, what is it?”  As usual Root’s enigmatic.  “We'll find out soon enough.  When you see this statue again, think impact.”  Shaw’s incredulous. “The Machine told you that?” Realizing how easy it is to get under her skin, Root gives her a seductive smile.  “I suppose I could be making it up.” Rolling her eyes, Shaw reminds her “And I suppose I could be kicking your ass.”  But there's no heat in her words and her inner voice questions just how much she’s been looking at Root’s ass. Not that it stops her from walking just a tad behind her, keeping said ass in sight.

When they end up underground, Root tells Shaw she needs her to use the improvised blow torch they’ve brought along to cut through a metal grate. Still not satisfied with following orders, Shaw continues to question her about the mission. Since persistence gets her nowhere, she switches to intimidation and sidles up to Root with the blow torch lit between them. “You know the last time I used a blowtorch was to get intel from an uncooperative source. Now, you either tell me what we're here to do, or I walk.” Root shows a distinct lack of fear.

Shaw moves even closer unconsciously.  Again she searches Root's eyes for deception, but finds something else entirely.  Root's pupils are dilated and Shaw realizes her breaths are thready.   _It's probably because she realizes I might actually burn her._ Root knows what Shaw's seeing but she doesn't try to hide it.  She sees the moment Shaw softens and she knows everything just changed between them.  But even for Root it's a bit too intense and she automatically falls into a familiar dynamic.  She flirts.

“Honestly? Most of the time, I'm told what to do a second before I have to do it. The big picture, that's Hers.”  Making use of her slight height advantage and, yet again, Shaw’s close proximity, Root looks down into her eyes, with a smile that’s almost a smirk and whispers, slowly emphasizing, “The only thing I know for sure is I…need…you.” That’s the Machine’s message, but Shaw knows the double entendre is all Root. 

Shaw holds the stare for a moment longer, then releases a breath she didn't know she was holding and scowls.  "Then you should get out of my way."  But Root stops her.  "Wait."  She slips protective glasses onto Shaw's face sensually.  "Safety first."  Shaw doesn't know how such a mundane act can feel sensual but it does.  But she only rolls her eyes and shakes her head.  

In her head she’s wondering why she can’t seem to stop invading Root’s personal space, which is just fueling the fire of Root’s flirtation.  She finds herself wishing Root would just shut up.  It's like listening to really loud music in stereo.  Grating music.  Heavy metal music.

 

* * *

 

When they arrive at a nondescript apartment, Shaw wants to know what's going on.  "Okay, so you don't know what we're doing.  Can you at least tell me what we're doing next?"  Root's not stalling exactly but they need to hurry.  "Breaking and entering."  Once inside, Shaw looks around.  "Locked door.  Phone.  What's missing?"  Root's sitting on the desk next to the phone munching on an apple she found.  But Shaw doesn't have time to think when Root warns her.  "Behind you."  A man comes charging out of the bathroom and attacks her.  Root lets them fight a minute enjoying the way Shaw's body moves.  It's a paradox.  Elegant, powerful, controlled.  Root finally snaps out of her fog and tases the guy.  Shaw's happy at least it wasn't her getting tased this time.

Once she's not engaged in hand to hand combat, Shaw realizes where they are.  "Highly trained operative in a bad suit.  This is a CIA pickup site."  Root doesn't bother to confirm the obvious.  She picks up the phone and sets up the pick-up.  When she hangs up Shaw asks her, "Okay, so what's the package?"  Root smiles at her.  "Me."

Shaw shakes her head in disbelief, but says nothing.  She sedates the agent, ties him up, and stuffs him in a closet.  "You could've helped you know."  Root smiles knowingly and Shaw knows she's about to regret her words.  "Why Sameen, are you saying you needed me?"  Shaw rolls her eyes and scowls.  "No." 

Root doesn't push it but she knows she's going to have to confess something.  "Sam?  The pickup's not for another 10 hours."  Shaw wonders what other indignity she's going to have to undergo before this mission's complete.  But she says nothing.


	4. The Safe House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While they wait, casually picking up the hood and zip ties, Root seductively asks Shaw, "You want to play?"

It doesn’t take long for both of them to be bored out of their minds.  Root because Shaw won’t talk, Shaw because Root talks too much; both of them only agreeing TV sucks.  Root tries to coax Shaw into a conversation, but to no avail.  Shaw knows what Root wants, but she won’t let herself go there. 

Brutally honest with herself, Shaw knows some part of her is beginning to warm up to Root.  Unlike John and Finch, she actually understands Root’s fucked up moral guidance system and a part of her agrees.  Maybe because Shaw doesn’t feel the way other people feel, she feels a certain kinship with Root’s unorthodox view of the world. 

But she wants no part of the confusion Root creates in her.  She makes all sorts of exceptions when Root’s around, acting contrary to her nature.  It’s dangerous and could easily get Shaw or someone else killed.  Not that Shaw cares about dying, but she has no intention of dying because she's distracted by Root.

They end up sitting around with CNN playing in the background.  Shaw’s already cleaned her gun twice and for once, the Machine’s quiet in Root’s ear, having no instructions for her other than to wait for the CIA transfer team.  While they wait, Root casually picks up the hood and zip-ties and seductively asks Shaw, "You want to play?" 

She’s sure Shaw will just roll her eyes and ignore her like she’s been doing for the last couple of hours, but teasing is the only entertainment left for Root.  Plus she thinks it’s worth a shot.  If Shaw won’t open up verbally, maybe she’ll open up physically.  If nothing else, it'll be a fun way to ease the tension currently sucking the air out of the room.

Shaw does roll her eyes, but obviously turned on, she looks at Root.  "Why not?  There’s nothing better to do."  She scowls as she lists the ground rules.  "This is a one-night stand we will never speak of again on penalty of death.  Yours, not mine.  It changes nothing.  Agreed?"  Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but Root will take what she can get.  Smiling suggestively, she nods her head, "Of course sweetie."  Shaw almost calls it off right then, but the thought of spending the rest of the night with Root talking quells the impulse.

Never one to waste time, she grabs Root’s hand and pulls her into the bedroom.  She’s disoriented for a moment, the feel of Root’s skin makes her heart skip a beat.  Again she briefly considers stopping before they start.  But Root’s already licking at her lips, her taste sweet and tart like the apples she seems to like so much.  Caution not really being her style anyway, Shaw goes with it…plus she’s really turned on and her body seems to have a mind of its own.

They reluctantly pull apart to undress.  Ripped clothing would be quite embarrassing when the transfer team shows up.  Facing each other, they keep their gazes locked and undress slower than strictly necessary.  Shaw catches her breath when she sees Root naked for the first time.  Root’s body radiates strength and all her planes and angles come together in perfect balance, making her mouth water. 

Giving her a lascivious smile, Root slowly rakes her gaze down Shaw’s body.  Shaw’s biceps and midriff are well defined, her ass tight and curvy, and she's captivated by the color of her skin, a rich olive color so different from Root’s own paleness. 

Root feels desire sparking like an agitation in her soul.  It goes beyond wanting to get off.  It’s a want to explore, and lick, and taste, and pleasure.  They step towards each other unconsciously.  Inpatient, Shaw pulls Root to her, bringing their bodies together, claiming her mouth like an erotic explorer.  As they start to tease each other, fighting for dominance, Root surrenders, knowing Shaw doesn’t trust her enough, or at all really, to let Root take the lead. 

Shaw pulls them towards the bed, pushing Root down and climbing on top of her.  She straddles Root’s midriff and Root smiles suggestively, pulling her down so their nipples are touching.  Shaw takes the opportunity to bite the sensitive skin on Root’s neck and nibbles her earlobe, letting her tongue lightly travel the rim.  “I’m going to taste every inch of you.”  Shaw’s breath is hot in Root’s ear and the sensation makes her nipples hard. 

Root knew sex with Shaw would be amazing the minute she cut Shaw loose in the car.  There was clearly passion under the anger, Shaw leaning into Root’s body, their faces millimeters apart, not moving even after she lowered the knife, danger evident in her body.  But Root now suspects she really had no idea just how amazing it will be.  Shaw rarely speaks, using her body to communicate more often than not.  So it never occurred to her Shaw would talk during sex, much less so openly.

Refusing to relinquish an ounce of control, Shaw bites down sharply on Root’s lower lip, intentionally bruising, while raising her hands above her head.  Distracted, Root doesn’t realize she’s zip-tied to the headboard until she hears the rip of the teeth interlocking. 

Shaw lifts up enough to look into her eyes, a smug smile on her face, “Turnabout's fair play."  She studies Root unabashedly.  "You're so fucking hot."  She leans in capturing Root's mouth and explores as if Root’s undiscovered territory.  It shoots a current-like wave down to Root’s center. 

Sliding down so that she’s straddling her thighs, Shaw skims her body with her hands, barely touching, making Root shiver like stepping out into the sun after you've spent too long in the cold, leaving her desperate.

Making sure Root is okay, Shaw pauses, and then slowly pulls the hood over Root's head. She doesn't pull it all the way down, allowing Root to breathe easily and leaving her mouth exposed for other activities.  Root has to make a concerted effort not to fight against the restraints.  She never lets herself be this physically vulnerable with any of her bed partners.  But she forces herself to relax. 

Shaw continues nipping, biting, sucking Root’s body, like the wind in a sand storm, giving pain as well as pleasure.  Root’s sure she’s never felt anything more erotic.  But Shaw suddenly stands up, leaving her body with only the memory of being touched, like a dream.  Root’s desperate to feel Shaw’s touch, but she has no idea where to turn.  Tugging on the zip-tie, she realizes she can free herself at any time.  The restraint is mental not physical.  Root must choose to submit to Shaw’s will.  She surrenders unconditionally. 

Shaw softly starts talking, but Root can't tell where her voice is coming from, it seems Shaw surrounds her like a song; it’s disturbing and comforting at the same time.  "Stop moving Root."  Root stops although it’s the last thing she wants to do.  "Nod yes if you want to stop."  Root stays absolutely still, not wanting there to be any misunderstandings.  

As if she's reliving pleasant memories, Shaw casually says, "You know, like you, I've had a lot of experience with torture and one of the things I learned is depriving a prisoner of one sense tends to heighten their awareness of their remaining senses."  As she talks, Root feels her body start trembling with anticipation, nipples hard, wet just thinking about what Shaw might do.  Well, truthfully, she was already wet before they started. 

Shaw wants Root to remember this night with her as something distinct from anyone she’s ever been with before.  She recognizes her strong need for possession, her need to mark Root as hers.   Extremely uneasy, Shaw takes a deep breath; the intensity’s overwhelming and she doesn't want to feel this way.  But in a surrender of her own, she ignores the voices in her head, yielding to her need for Root, knowing there will be consequences. 

Shaw sits next to her on the bed.  She runs a nail down Root's chest, hard enough to scratch but not bleed, to her lower abdomen, following the trail with her tongue, barely touching Root's skin.  Arching, Root feels her need building like a tsunami inside her, wanting the pleasure and the pain like bondage and liberation.  She exhales slowly.  “Sameen..."

Knowing Root can’t see her, Shaw looks at her with undisguised lust.  She licks her finger rubbing it across Root’s swollen lips, bruised from her earlier attentions.  Leaning in, her hot breath on Root’s neck, she whispers, “I’m going to make you cry my name like a prayer.”  Root’s mind is frantic, wound tight like the spring of a wind-up toy, waiting for Shaw’s touch.  Her imagination is running wild.  Her skin’s tingling like pins and needles, almost aching, waiting.  She pleads.  “Please Sameen..." But immediately bites her tongue.  Root does not beg.  Ever. 

Shaw notices Root’s nipples are hard, body quivering and arching in anticipation.  She strokes her clit lightly until Root begs for relief, desperation personified.  “Sameen, please…” It sounds like a prayer and its obvious Root has thrown away the no begging rule.

But Shaw's touch fades away, but not, still echoing on her sensitive skin.  Stroking up from her clit to her breasts, circling her nipples, her finger coated with Root’s essence, Shaw slips it into Root’s mouth.  Root immediately sucks on it, sending a bolt of pleasure down Shaw’s body.  She pulls her finger out slowly and Root feels lost.  Shaw uses the same finger to caress Root’s lips, bending down and lapping them slowly.  Root moans when she tastes herself in Shaw, reluctantly releasing Shaw’s lips when she pulls away, whimpering in protest.

Shaw begins blazing a trail over Root’s skin, her tongue like a dagger of heat, singeing every inch of her.  She’s adrift in the feel of Root, her skin soft as a shadow.  But Shaw thinks her scent will be her undoing, its persuasive power stronger than any words Root could utter.  She can’t resist, it enters like a breath into her lungs, filling her up, imbuing everything.  There’s no remedy.

Root feels Shaw reach down to her center and run her fingertips gently over the surface and she feels her stomach tighten.  Shaw wants to look into Root's eyes so she slips the hood off, running her fingers through her hair until Root recovers her equilibrium.  Shaw looks into her eyes.  “I’ll take care of you,” and Root submits.  

Shaw scoots down and eases her arms under Root’s thighs and her cool hands hold her firmly as she lifts Root to her lips.  Root feels Shaw’s soft exhalations over her center and she melts in a furnace of desire.  It’s a few seconds before she becomes aware of the first movements of Shaw’s tongue.   Shaw makes an oblique assault on Root’s folds, licking first up one side and then the other, each stroke opening Root up just a little more.   It lasts for minutes, Root’s frustration running through her veins like a rollercoaster.  She growls. "Sameen. Inside. Now."

Root feels like her center is under a heat lamp and she’s melting like a snowflake in the water.  Shaw senses her agitation and moves her tongue to the base of her sex.  Root expects her to lick upwards, but instead Shaw applies a steady pressure and somewhere inside Root a dam breaks.  Shaw gives a greedy moan taking everything Root gives like a glass of water and she's dying of thirst.  As Root calms, Shaw moves her tongue with renewed purpose.  The tip traces a path between Root’s folds, slowly pressing ever deeper until Root feels her inside.  Root sighs.  “Oh my God, Sameen…”

It is not a passive invasion. Shaw’s tongue seems impossibly long as it twists and writhes. Root is so close to climax, but Shaw seems able to spark bundles of nerves that release the tension whilst still keeping her on the razor’s edge of orgasm.  She's breathing hard, almost hyperventilating, and her skin is damp with sweat, but Shaw shows no mercy.  She seems tireless and determined Root is only going to come when she allows.  Root’s whimpering, pleading under her breath, when Shaw finally relents and seeks out her clit.

Shaw's tongue touches Root’s clit and Root’s so sensitized that she feels the almost imperceptible movements as Shaw draws a tiny figure eight.  It’s a delicious feeling.  Root’s sure that it won’t be enough of itself but she didn't count on Shaw’s patience.  She continues to coax at the same inexorable pace and after a few moments Root’s entire body is balanced on a single fulcrum of pleasure. 

Shaw holds complete control of Root’s body on the tip of her tongue and she simply waits until Root melts into orgasm.  It is an almost indescribable feeling.  At first the waves of pleasure gently lap at her but, with no obvious effort on Shaw’s part, they grow stronger and stronger threatening to drown her.  She literally fights for breath as her body shakes and comes completely undone.

She regains her senses gradually to find Shaw brushing her sex like waves on the shore.  She cries out Shaw's name.  "Sameen..."  Root feels a fire kindle within her and that’s when she knows she’s in danger.  She's been playing with dynamite and it’s only a matter of time before it explodes. 

Shaw straightens up, resting on her knees, straddling Root’s leg.  She takes her time and a smug smile comes to her face when she sees the marks she left on Root’s body.  Those will be around for a few days at least.  Root’s fascinated by this side of Shaw.  But when she sees the smug smile she knows it’s time to bring Shaw down a peg or two.

She bends her knee and feels how hot and wet Shaw is.  She gives her a smug smile of her own.  “You know Sameen, I can take care of that for you.”  Shaw stares at her intently, but doesn’t answer.  She gets out of bed and Root thinks she pushed too far, but she’s back in seconds, cutting through the zip-tie binding Root’s hands.

Root brings her arms down and rubs her wrists to increase circulation.  She realizes those too will leave marks and she smiles to herself, wondering if she should tease Shaw about her need to mark, but decides that may be too much and they still have so much time to play.

Shaw kneels back on the bed and straddles Root’s abdomen, circling her clit slowly over Root’s muscles.  She bites back a moan, but she’s rewarded by the hunger she sees flare in Root’s eyes.  “I fully intend for you to take care of that problem for me.  My way.”  If she gets to taste Shaw, Root’s amenable to pretty much anything.

She reaches out to hold Shaw’s waist and although Shaw tenses momentarily, she lets Root keep her hands where they are.  She crawls up Root’s body until she’s straddling her shoulders, trapping Root’s arms.  Root catches a hint of Shaw’s scent and her nostrils flare.   

Shaw reaches down and touches herself then brushes her finger over Root’s mouth.  Her touch is soft like a breath and Root’s mouth tingles.  She can’t help but taste it as Shaw presses her finger into her mouth.  She lets Shaw’s finger play over her tongue, the taste she can’t describe, but it is so uniquely Shaw.  Shaw draws out her finger slowly, her thumb on Root’s chin.  Root scrapes hard with her teeth until it’s gone and looks up to find her smiling.

Without another word, she straddles Root so her knees are pinning Root’s shoulders.  Root feels uncomfortably enclosed but, at the same time, the intimacy is unnervingly arousing.  Shaw’s scent lies over her like a shroud and she sees the neat slit swollen open and wet and so alluring.  She smiles and opens her mouth in acceptance as Shaw settles over her.

Root intends to make Shaw come in a way that will ruin her for anyone else.  Considering she can’t use her hands, she’s going to have to be creative. 

She places soft kisses all over Shaw’s sex, like feathery strokes.  Her scent is intoxicating and Root would gladly stay drunk forever.  Still kissing her center, she lightly uses her tongue, dipping shallowly inside, sucking gently on her clit, then on her entire sex, in and out of her mouth. 

Shaw’s soft as cotton but warm inside.  “Root...”  Root can tell Shaw bit back something she’d regret later.  Root smiles without removing her mouth, and Shaw looks down.  “I felt that…stop teasing.” Root’s response is to blow warm air gently, almost imperceptibly over Shaw’s clit, making her shudder.    

Shaw’s beginning to push down, trying to gain more friction.  She’s biting her lip in an obvious effort not to speak.  Root wraps her lips around her clit, drawing it in, moving her tongue along the bottom ridge.  She moves tenderly up and down in the ridge and feels Shaw’s clit extend into her mouth.  She glances up and sees Shaw like a prophecy coming true still biting her lip, pulling her hair, head thrown back, tendrils of her hair framing her face.    

She engulfs Shaw’s clit with the whole of her mouth, moving the soft inside of her lips around the hood, while keeping the center of her lips wrapped around her clit.  She slowly curves her tongue and slips it under the hood.  She feels a slight electrical current, like her tongue ran over a copper wire.  She keeps moving her tongue over that spot, unhurriedly, like she has all the time in the world, burying herself inside.  She feels Shaw pulsing under her tongue. 

She stops for a second and Shaw howls like a wounded animal, looking down at Root like she’s been betrayed.  “Let me have my right hand and you won’t regret it.”  Shaw immediately, if not sooner, releases Root’s hand.

Root uses two fingers and slides them inside Shaw, reaching the spot right behind her clit.  She rests her fingers there, not moving, just pressing gently.  The pressure pushes Shaw's clit from behind, thrusting it further into her mouth.  She sucks it and its Shaw’s very being flowing into her mouth. 

Root begins to move her tongue in a slow rhythm, gently beginning to draw out Shaw’s orgasm.  ‘Fuck Root,” Shaw gasps, “I’ve never …” But she doesn’t finish as Root continues to push her clit softly from behind, pulling her tongue back on top of her clit.  Shaw locks onto her. 

Her breathing becomes shallow but rapid as her body melts into orgasm and Root’s mouth floods with moisture.  Shaw breaks wide open on Root’s tongue.  Root loses track of time until she feels a sudden reluctant relaxation as Shaw begins her slow decent.  When her breathing returns to normal, Shaw eases off Root. 

She recognizes she was deluding herself.  Once is not going to be enough.  Things are definitely going to get complicated.

Shaw’s legs can’t hold her and she slides down lying next to Root and catching her breath.  The orgasm was intense as a tornado, fast, furious, leaving nothing in its wake.  She’s completely spent. 

Root licks her lips slowly and murmurs, “Hmm…I knew you wouldn’t regret it.” A self-satisfied look on her face.  Shaw rolls her eyes, but can’t bring herself to scowl.  They lie shoulder to shoulder for a few minutes and Root’s waiting for Shaw to either kick her off the bed or get up herself.  When neither happens Root looks over at her questioningly.  Shaw raises one eyebrow.  “You didn’t think we were done did you?  We still have five hours to kill.”

Root did not see that coming at all, but she is delighted.  They lie in the silence for a little while and Shaw’s surprised that it doesn’t get uncomfortable.  Eventually she turns onto her side and looks at Root.  She catches a glimpse of something before Root masks it with her usual leering smile.  Shaw’s almost disappointed she couldn’t figure it out.

She runs her hand firmly over Root’s body like she’s tracing her.  Root feels almost…worshipped and suddenly feels shy, like Shaw’s seeing inside of her to where her real self hides.  It’s too intimate and Root looks away. 

When Shaw’s touched all the skin she can reach, she rolls over onto Root.  Settling between her legs, her elbows on either side of Root’s breasts.  The silence seems to be making a sound.  It’s like a beating in Root’s ears.  She wants desperately to escape Shaw’s probing gaze. 

Shaw must sense it because she lowers her head and starts sucking on Root’s nipple.  Her sucking turns to biting and her hands are caressing the sides of Root’s breasts.  Shaw switches to the other nipple without looking up. 

A moan escapes from Root’s mouth and she wishes she could take it back.  Because there’s something more in it than sexual satisfaction but if Shaw hears it she doesn’t comment or look up.  Root feels her wetness trickling down her thigh and she knows Shaw can feel it too. 

Shaw tears herself away from Root’s nipples and braces herself on her elbows, leaning in so her hair shrouds their faces.  She starts licking and biting Root’s neck and Root scrapes her nails down Shaw’s back, thrusting her hips involuntarily, bring her hot center to rub on Shaw’s abdomen.

“Sameen…”  But Shaw doesn’t let her finish the thought.  She looks up into Root’s eyes.  “No words or we stop.”  Shaw resumes her attention to Root’s neck, now biting hard and scraping her teeth to Root’s collarbone where she sucks harshly.  Root winds her hands in Shaw’s hair tightly, another moan escaping her lips.

Shaw doesn’t linger, biting and sucking her way across Root’s breasts.  She shifts and now she’s straddling Root’s thigh, bearing her weight on one elbow, while she reaches Root’s sex with other.  Root is so wet and desperate and she wants Shaw inside her but she obeys Shaw’s rule.

Instead she tries to push against Shaw’s hand and she’s gripping her shoulders roughly.  But Shaw still proceeds at her inexorable pace.  She opens Root up with one finger, sliding up her slit, gathering Root’s wetness.  She looks up and sucks on her finger, pushing it all the way into her mouth before pulling it out and Root thinks she’s going to combust.  The science is wrong. Spontaneous human combustion is a real thing.

But then Shaw enters her with two fingers and strokes her g-spot and Root almost comes that quickly, but Shaw pulls out again.  Root’s getting frustrated, her body’s shaking, and she’s panting like she might pass out.

The next thing she knows Shaw flips her over and enters her from behind.  She’s unrelenting, thrusting in and out, her wet thumb rubbing Root’s ass and it’s fucking fantastic.  She grabs Root’s shoulder for leverage and adds another finger and Root feels so full and so good and she doesn’t want it to stop.

It takes her a moment to realize Shaw’s spoken.  “Touch your clit Root, but you can’t come until I say so.”  Root knows that’s just cruel and she knows she likes it.  She touches her clit lightly and it sparks up to her nipples and she doesn’t think she can wait.  But she wants to obey Shaw and right now she can’t examine too closely why because there’s a roaring in her ears and she feels Shaw in every corner of her body and she needs more.

Shaw pulls out a little and Root thinks she’s going to cry if she stops, but Shaw just dips her thumb in the wetness flooding her hand and immediately thrusts in hard.  She’s rubbing Root’s ass with her own wetness and Root forgets this is against her own rules because it feels so fucking good. 

She feels Shaw lean in and whisper into her ear.  “Come for me now Root.”  The words alone might be enough Root is so close to the edge.  Shaw’s unrelenting and on the next thrust she penetrates Root with her thumb and Root feels her orgasm shattering every inch of her body then putting it back together. 

She’s still clenching and Shaw’s still fucking her although she slows down, gentling Root through it.  It seems to go on forever and there’s nothing but Shaw in that moment and Root wishes they could stay like that forever.

She finally feels like she can breathe again and Shaw pulls out gently and falls back next to Root on her back.  They’re both panting and it’s the only sound in the room.  There’s this thing in the air between them and Root feels like they’re at some fork in the road and saying the wrong thing will mean this never happens again.  And Root wants it to happen again and again and now that she knows what it feels like she won’t be able to do without it.

Shaw wants to run far away from here and this woman she barely knows who makes her feel something she can’t identify and makes her…just want.  But she can’t articulate what the thing is she wants.  Shaw doesn’t do wanting.  And she turns to say something to Root…but she looks at her and Root looks afraid.  Root doesn’t do afraid and she wants that look gone from Root’s face.

So she tugs Root over and at first Root thinks she’s going to physically push her off the bed, but she ends up sprawled on top of Shaw.  Shaw’s still not talking and her eyes are inscrutable and Root feels like this moment is the one that will dictate how things go.

She sees Shaw’s shoulders relax like she’s made some decision and her hand reaches out and takes Root’s and brings it to her breast and suddenly her tongue’s demanding entrance at Root’s mouth and Root moans as her tongue circles Shaw’s.  Shaw bites her lip so hard it bleeds and it ratchets Root’s excitement.  And she scratches Root’s back and she wants more.  She tangles her hand in Root’s hair and pulls her painfully until Root’s eyes meet hers.

Shaw’s pupils are dilated and Root thinks she sees a kind of need, but it’s gone in a flash. Shaw growls and it seems to come from the back of her throat.  “I want you inside me now Root.” 

Root reaches down and Shaw’s so ready and it’s a heady feeling knowing she’s the one that made her that way.  But she doesn’t tease and enters Shaw with three fingers and Shaw’s tight around her hand and she bucks and grips Root’s waist hard enough to bruise.  Root holds on to Shaw’s knee and looks down at her hand fucking her and it’s the most intimate thing she’s ever seen.  “Harder Root.”

Root thrusts deeper and harder until she feels Shaw clenching around her hand.  Shaw moans.  “Fuck, fuck, fuck, don’t stop.”  And Root sees her face, wild and unguarded, and she’s mesmerized.  She feels the clenching start to slow and starts to pull out but Shaw holds her hand in a vice-like grip and Root looks up in question.

Shaw holds her gaze and slowly lets go of her hand.  Root starts thrusting again, deep but slow, brushing Shaw’s g-spot with every thrust and before long Shaw’s coming again, this time quietly.  But she’s held Root’s gaze the whole time and it’s almost like she’s trying to tell her something but Root doesn’t understand and the look’s gone as soon as it came.     

They stay together in the silence.  Root closes her eyes, reliving the scene in her mind over and over.  The look on Shaw’s face when she climaxed, the sound of her voice crying Root’s name, the feel of being inside her.

The next thing she knows, Shaw's gone; she must have dozed off.  Shaw comes out from the bathroom toweling her hair but otherwise naked, casually telling Root “You better shower, it's almost time.”  Dazed, Root goes, taking her clothes with her.  Somehow she feels too vulnerable to walk around naked in the face of Shaw’s indifference. 

When she comes out, Shaw's already sitting at the desk, impatiently waiting for the transport team, her stoic look in place.  For once, Root's not sure how to act or what to say.  What’s the protocol for talking to the person you just had sex with, who doesn’t want to talk or acknowledge you or the sex?   Not being a prostitute, Root's not sure.  Feeling hurt by Shaw’s attitude, she remembers she agreed to the rules, so she can’t cry foul now.

She takes comfort in knowing, whatever Shaw might pretend, this was not a one-night stand for either of them.  It wasn’t just sex and all of Shaw's wishing won't make it so.  Immediately cheering, she knows Shaw needs time to process.  Shaw glances up and looks at Root. Sensing she's about to talk, Shaw puts a finger to her mouth, shakes her head, and mouths, never. 

Shaw can’t process what just happened so she takes refuge in what she knows, anger.  Anger Root wouldn’t stop bugging her, anger Root didn’t stay the fuck away, and most of all anger Root’s making her feel things other than anger.


	5. The Black Site

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You say the sweetest things."

The transport team arrives and they head to the black site. 

When she’s locking Root in a cage at the site, Shaw realizes Root still has her ear-wig connecting her to the Machine.  She gently sweeps Root’s hair back and removes it, knowing they can’t risk anyone finding it on Root.  But Shaw doesn’t know what she’s going to do about her body’s repeated betrayal.  Why does it disobediently reach out to touch Root with the flimsiest of excuses?  Root could have taken out her own ear-wig or Shaw could have snatched it off.  There was no need to caress Root's face like some love-struck teenager, which she definitely is not.  Either of those things.  Especially the first one.  Regardless, Shaw's completing this mission with her and then she's done with Root. She doesn't even care about revenge for the tasering anymore.  She just wants Root gone.

Still flying blind, Root gives Shaw only minimal information, seconds before its needed, and not making any sense to Shaw.  But begrudgingly getting used to Root’s inscrutable comments, Shaw deadpans, “You say the sweetest things," rolling her eyes as she stalks away.  _Seriously?  That’s my snappy comeback?  What the hell’s wrong with me?_ Still uneasy with her reactions to Root, Shaw chastises herself.  She realizes she's unknowingly lowered her guard again and the realization makes her uneasy.  Root cannot be trusted; no matter she’s undeniably a hot fuck.  But even as Shaw thinks it, she knows Root’s much more. That’s the problem.

Finally, Root puzzles out the Machine’s plan.  They’re breaking out a prisoner, Jason Greenfield, former member of Vigilance, an anti-government terrorist group.  Jason betrayed the organization when it turned lethal and turned himself in to the CIA, hoping to be safe. But the CIA fakes his death and imprisons him, intending to interrogate him to learn what he knows about Vigilance. Vigilance is hunting Greenfield to prevent him from telling the CIA what he knows.

Breaking him out during transport, Shaw learns her mission with Root intersects with an irrelevant number given to Reese.  It turns out Reese’s number is Greenfield’s foster brother who is looking into Greenfield’s supposed death, which also makes him a target.  Vigilance assumes Greenfield gave him damaging information and wants him dead to ensure his silence.   When Reese sees Shaw's not being held against her will by Root, even his stoic demeanor reflects astonishment. 

Not sure what’s going on in the commotion of the break out, Shaw notices Root's disappeared with Greenfield and Reese has his number well in hand.   _Mission complete,_ she thinks. _I’m gone._ Shaw intends to disappear for a while.  Now the ISA thinks she’s dead, she figures she should move away from the hotbed of activity in NY and build another life.

But before walking away, she recognizes the hatch to the sewer where she cut the grate; it’s open.  _Damn it._  Briefly debating, she can’t ignore it…where Root goes, trouble follows.  And the blow back usually falls on someone else.  She pushes the truth to the back of her mind.  She knows she won't leave Root in danger.  Groaning, she immediately lowers herself into the sewer, arriving as two Vigilance agents are about to kill Root, who has run out of bullets.  _What kind of assassin runs out of bullets?  Amateur._

Facing down the agents, Root gives a sly smile. Finding it bizarre Root’s smiling, one of the agents asks her why.  Root explains she’s not smiling at them, but by the time they start to turn around, it’s too late.  Shaw opens fire, incapacitating them.

Root smiles smugly as they walk toward each other.  “I knew you'd come back for me.”  Shaw keeps the same impervious look on her face.  She should've let them kill Root, but it didn't seem fair considering they had bullets.  Plus she wants the pleasure of wiping that smug smile off Root’s face once and for all.  It’s a sobering thought though.  Barring Shaw’s intervention, Root would be dead right now.  Vigilance agents shoot to kill, not maim.  She tries to imagine how that would affect her, but she can’t wrap her mind around it.  Cole was her partner for years and all she felt when he died was anger.  She killed Wilson, but undid everything Cole had accomplished by turning over his files to Research.  Shaw doubts Cole would consider it a demonstration of loyalty.  But Root…Root’s a different matter altogether.

Sauntering up to her, Shaw gradually returns the smile with a knowing one of her own, asking if the mission is complete. “Absolutely,” Root responds suggestively, a leering look on her face. Closing the distance between them, still smiling, Shaw throws a vicious uppercut, rendering Root unconscious. _At least I didn’t shoot her,_ Shaw thinks with a self satisfied look on her face.  The crunch of her fist slamming into Root's face is the highlight of her day.  Who is she kidding? It’s actually a far distant second.  But still, she finally found a way she understands to deal with Root.  And it isn’t like Root didn’t deserve it.  _Now I can put this entire situation to bed._ If Shaw had stopped to think about her choice of clichés, she might have found the thought less comforting.

Shaw turns Root over to Finch.  Finch locks Root into a Faraday cage to sever Root’s connection to the Machine, worried having a psychopath blindly following the Machine’s orders cannot end well.  Shaw’s not sure why she turned Root over to Finch.  She could have let Root go and she’d be off somewhere stepping and fetching for the Machine, far away from Shaw.  It’s certainly not because it’s the only way Shaw will know Root’s whereabouts. 

Instead of leaving NY as she intended, Shaw decides to accept Finch’s job offer, indirectly working with the Machine.  The same Machine to which Root devotes her life.  _I can’t let Root stand in the way of the perfect job.  That would be stupid._


	6. The Faraday Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hi sweetie, come to borrow a book? Or are you checking something else out?”

Hanging out at the library, Shaw’s thoughts drift to Root in the Faraday cage.  So far she’s managed to avoid seeing her, keeping extremely busy with the numbers and making a conscious effort to fight the temptation.  The boys are out dealing with a complicated mission and Shaw’s alone with Bear…and Root. 

Telling herself its only boredom, she gets up from Harold’s desk and walks over to the cage, leaning on the door and staring at Root.  Although Root knows she’s standing there, she doesn’t look up; keeping her eyes glued to the book she was pretending to read while secretly checking Shaw out as she walked over. 

Root’s playing the long game and that means making Shaw come to her not chasing her down.  Her night with Shaw keeps replaying in her dreams and she wakes up wet and frustrated.  When she closes her eyes she sees flashes of memory…Shaw fierce, relentless, intimate, and generous.  Her desire intertwines with every thought in her head.

“I know you know I’m standing here Root.”  Shaw finally mutters.  Hearing the way Shaw enunciates her name always thrills her.  Raking her eyes up her body until they lock gazes, Root gives a knowing smile.  “Hi sweetie, come to borrow a book?  Or are you checking something else out?”

Rolling her eyes and shaking her head at the glaringly obvious innuendo, Shaw growls, “No.  I’m making sure you haven’t checked yourself out.”  A second before Root speaks, Shaw realizes Root can turn that remark into another overtly sexual innuendo without even trying.

Putting her book down, Root gradually lies down on her side, propping her head with one hand, a pensive look on her face.  Cocking her head she runs her hand suggestively over her breasts and brings it to rest on her muscled abdomen, smiling innocently.  “Hmm, that hadn’t even occurred to me.” 

It doesn’t escape Root’s notice Shaw’s eyes are no longer on hers, but rather on Root’s nipples, which hardened when Root grazed her hand over them.  “But maybe you should come in and make sure.  I’ve been told I can’t be trusted.” 

“That’s an understatement,” Shaw mutters under her breath.

She unlocks and opens the gate, knowing Root can’t escape the proximity radius of her ankle monitor without being shocked into unconsciousness.  Finch designed it especially for Root.  She also knows this is a very bad idea, but it’s like her body’s pulling her towards Root while her mind hovers somewhere in the background watching in slow motion, yelling no no no no. 

Shaw’s brutally honest with herself.  She wants to touch Root.  Her body is tingling and there’s a tug in her groin she can’t deny she wants Root to push.

Once inside, she closes the gate and leans back against it.  Root watches her intently, waiting, not even trying to mask the desire in her eyes.  She holds her breath.  This moment may lead to something…or not.   She knows Shaw’s skittish and the wrong move may leave her high and not so dry as Shaw retreats.

Shaw seems to make a decision.  Taking off her jacket, she lets it fall to the floor, leaving her in her trademark black jeans and tank top.  Rapt, Root sits up and watches with a small smile.  No one makes a tank top look sexier than Shaw and her mouth waters as she observes the jeans clinging tightly to her ass, her well defined biceps flexing as she moves.

She stops in front of Root.  Root gently lays her hands on Shaw’s waist, looking up at her.  Without breaking eye contact, she lifts Shaw’s shirt and exposes her taut abs, using her lips to nibble like it’s the first bite of her favorite dessert. 

Shaw reaches down and runs her fingers through Root’s hair gently tugging down so her head lifts.  Looking up, mouth slightly agape, Root never expected the raw want and need evident on Shaw’s face, genuine and undiluted.  Without any haste, Shaw bends down, licking Root’s lips. 

Her tongue slips into Root’s mouth caressing and tasting, her hands gliding up and down Root’s sides making her shiver.  Root holds on to the belt loops on Shaw’s jeans pulling her closer and Shaw slides down to the bench, her legs pinning Root’s.

Breaking away suddenly, Shaw brings her forehead to Root’s, leaving them both gasping and clinging to each other.  As their breaths slow, she purposefully starts to unbutton Root’s shirt, pushing it back over her shoulders, restraining her arms.  As Root leans back on the bench supporting herself with her hands, she follows her movement, bending forward, hands on Root’s shoulders, scraping her teeth down her neck and licking her way down her chest with long, thick strokes. 

Root raises her head and loses herself in Shaw’s eyes and hears words that shake her to her core. “You taste like trouble, but your scent is like salvation.  I’m not sure if you’re going to destroy me or deliver me.”  Root feels Shaw’s intensity, Root’s true self reflected in her words and like a deer in the headlights she freezes. 

Feeling Root tense beneath her, Shaw straightens up, tugging her up lightly by her shirt, letting go once Root recovers her balance.  Their breaths loud in the silence, Shaw looks at her, “Are you okay?”  Nodding yes, Root stays silent.  “Do you want to stop?” 

Unsure, Root looks down, not used to lacking the words to explain her feelings.  She knows she’s capable of losing herself in Shaw like Alice through the looking glass adrift in wonderland. 

Shaw gently lifts Root’s chin so they’re looking at each other.

“Sameen…”  Shaw waits patiently for once.  “It’s like we’re jumping off a cliff with no parachute.”  Shaw grins wickedly.  “Sounds like fun.”  Root can’t help smiling.  “But you have to decide if it’s a risk you’re willing to take.”  Root realizes it’s not really a choice anymore.  She wants Shaw more than she’s ever wanted anyone.

So she smiles suggestively and leans back on the bench, pulling Shaw on top of her.  But immediately Shaw pulls away, and Root wonders briefly if her emotional tether has snapped and she’s bolting.  

But Shaw starts to take her clothes off.  Looking at Root, she gruffly points out, “You have way too many clothes on.  Off.  Now.”  Deliberately toying with her, Root refuses to rush.  After about three seconds, Shaw’s naked and has Root’s shirt and bra off, her jeans quickly on the way to her ankles.  “Well someone’s in a hurry…”

The only problem is the ankle monitor is affixed to the outside of her jeans.  Shaw growls in frustration.  Then she looks at Root.  “You asked me to trust you.  Can I trust you Root?”  Root knows what she’s asking and the fact Shaw’s even considering it floors Root.  “Yes.”  Shaw doesn’t hesitate.  She deactivates the ankle monitor.  

Pulling Root into her, Shaw brings their lips together, gently tugging and licking, making it clear this is just the prologue to the play.  She takes time to study Root, like a painting in a museum, discovering depth and dimension the longer she stares.  Root’s excited and frightened by her gaze all at once, like sky-diving, wanting to jump but afraid to fall. 

She lets her hands dance over Shaw’s back, wandering down her curves, coming to rest at the small of her back.  Shaw’s hands drift to Root’s breasts, her thumbs worshiping her nipples and Root gasps, feeling scorched by the heat in Shaw’s hands.  She tangles her hand in Shaw’s wavy hair and Shaw experiences a spiral of longing coursing down her body.

Shaw’s need flares, her sex aching for relief.  She guides Root’s hand down to stroke her throbbing clit.  Touching Shaw feels like coming home, a sanctuary from the outside world Root’s never had before. 

Root’s touch soothes and excites Shaw simultaneously and all thought’s obliterated.  She’s gasping, her desire smoldering.  A growl erupts from deep in her throat.  “Root…I want you inside me.  Now.”   Her words stir urgency in Root to quench her every desire. 

Clutching the nape of Shaw’s neck with one hand, she reaches into every part of Shaw’s being entering her like a flood, raging until Shaw goes under, swept away.  The power of the orgasm shatters Shaw’s conceptions of sexual satisfaction.  As she clings to Root, ecstasy is replaced by the sinking feeling Root will consume her after all.

Catching her breath and ignoring the warning signs littering the road they’re traveling, she caresses Root’s cheek with the back of her hand, the texture of her skin like a living silk.  Root props one leg on the bench, opening to her like ripe fruit. 

Resting one hand on the nape of her neck, Shaw reaches down using the back of her finger to stroke Root’s engorged clit.  The touch sharpens Root’s focus on the promise of release, like a prisoner from a cell.  "What happened to only once?" Root teases.  Shaw leans in whispering against Root's mouth, "Are you trying to talk yourself out of an orgasm?"  But Root forgets to answer, not even sure what the question was anymore when Shaw pinches her clit.  "Fuck that feels good!"  

Shaw rolls her eyes, but allows her to adjust her position for maximum pleasure and then rocks her hand in a soothing, rhythmic motion, using her wrist as a fulcrum. 

At first the motion is almost imperceptible but, as the minutes pass, it intensifies, incredibly arousing but equally frustrating.  “Sameen…please…”  Taking pity, Shaw slips three fingers into her, pulling out slightly then reaching in deeper oh sooo slowly. 

The climax just out of reach, Root pleads.  “Sam…please...let me come.”  Shaw smiles wickedly.  “Who’s in a hurry now?”  But she quickens her tempo, curving her finger slightly to hit Root’s g-spot with every thrust. 

She uses Root’s shoulder for leverage, holding it in a bruising grip.  Root meets Shaw’s every thrust with a force of her own, yearning coloring her eyes, frantic for an orgasm only Shaw can give.  Shaw leans in and sucks her pulse point roughly, excited by the feel of Root’s blood thrumming under her mouth.   

Reaching the crescendo, Root moans and grips Shaw’s shoulders, throwing her head back, her neck straining, and her hair draping her face.  Shaw knows she’s never seen a more stunning image.  Clenching Shaw’s fingers within her, Root rides the current of electricity shooting to her center.  As the orgasm finally ebbs, Shaw slips her fingers slowly out and Root rests her chin on Shaw’s collar bone, exhaling into her skin, her breath hot and erratic.

Shaw collapses onto the bench, pulling Root with her.  Root nestles into Shaw and they lie there silently, both deep in thought.  Not exactly the most comfortable substitute for a bed, much less for sex, Shaw still drifts off, not quite sleeping but drowsy. 

Her subconscious finally nudging her into alertness, she realizes there’s no longer any weight resting on her body.  Not opening her eyes, she knows it’s possible Root left, but she finds herself loathe to consider it.  Resignedly looking towards the only exit, but not lifting her head, she sighs disappointingly, seeing the cage’s door unlocked and open. 

Knowing she has to get up and figure out how to tell Harold she let Root escape, she sits up on the bench.  Ruefully, she pictures the consternation on Harold’s face when she tells him Root’s getaway was made possible by Shaw’s libido.

But as she gathers her clothes and looks towards the table on the other side of the cage, she finds Root asleep, sitting on a chair with her head resting on the desk, Shaw’s tank top serving as a pillow.  An unopened soda and an apple rest next to her head. 

Relieved, Shaw also finds herself feeling something she can’t quite put a finger on.  Overwhelmed by enough introspection today, she ignores it and walks over to the table, pulling on her jeans and bra before lifting herself up to sit on the side of the table near Root’s head, running her fingers through her hair. 

Groggily, Root opens her eyes and smiles up at Shaw, “I thought you might be thirsty.”  Smirking, Shaw raises her eyebrows, “I suppose you didn’t access Harold’s laptop or talk to the machine?”  Guiltily, Root sits up and looks around, finally bringing her eyes to rest on Shaw’s.  “You never said anything about electronics, and as you can see, I’m still here.”  Serious for a moment, Root whispers, “I’ll never betray your trust Sam.”  Root knows Shaw hates that nickname, but she also knows Shaw likes it when Root uses it.

Brightening, her justification gaining momentum by the minute, she looks at Shaw with that knowing look on her face.  “Actually, that means I was really good and deserve a reward.”  Wearing nothing but her open shirt, she stands up and slips between Shaw’s legs.  Rolling her eyes, Shaw stops her next word with a kiss before she keeps talking and gives Shaw a headache.

Reluctantly, Root pulls away, knowing it can’t be much longer before the boys get back.  Pulling her back, Shaw deadpans, “I have many skills and you’ll need to be really quick.”  Not waiting for an answer, she bites down hard on Root’s earlobe, nibbling her way back to her mouth.  Root moans and Shaw brings one of her hands around to rub her nipple, feeling it harden under her fingers.  She lifts her onto the edge of the table and drops to her knees, draping one of Root’s legs over her muscled shoulder. 

Root’s smell is intoxicating and Shaw inhales deeply.  But she can’t linger because the clock is ticking.  She flattens her tongue and runs it from the base of Root’s sex to her swollen clit and finds a rhythm clearly gratifying to Root.  Before long, Root’s body tenses and her breaths become ragged.  Shaw takes her clit into her mouth, sucking gently. 

A suppressed groan escapes Root’s throat and her mouth opens in a silent cry as her climax swamps her body.  Leaning into each other, they stand against the table, catching their breath.  In a completely smug tone, Root hears Shaw, “Told you I had many skills.”  Laughing, it’s Root’s turn to roll her eyes and scowl.  The attempted glare falls flat when Root can’t keep the affection from her eyes.

Shaw looks away as she beats a hasty retreat, putting on her tank top.  Unconcerned, Root puts on her own clothing, picks up her apple, and walks over to the bench.  Sitting with her legs up, a hand crossed over her knees, her head resting on them, but tilted up so she can still see Shaw, Root can write the next scene in her mind. 

“Root, the sex is amazing but you need to know I don’t do relationships or feelings.”  Root wonders exactly who Shaw is trying to convince, but keeps the same affectionate look on her face.  She also notes Shaw used "is amazing" instead of "was amazing," so hopefully they'll be doing this again soon. “Sweetie, I don’t recall proposing, so I think we’re safe.” 

Munching on her apple, Root continues as if Shaw’s comments were inconsequential.  “I thought you’d be hungry so I had the Machine deliver a steak sandwich and fries for you.  I left them on Harry’s desk.”  Not quite buying Root’s blasé attitude, Shaw figures time will tell. 

“Uh, you know I still…” Interrupting, Root finishes her sentence, “…have to lock me up.  I know.”  Feigning annoyance, she pouts, “At least you should have the decency to feel a little remorse.”  Shaw rolls her eyes and shakes her head.  “I told you…I don’t do feelings Root.”  Root bends down and snaps the ankle monitor back in place, saying nothing else but watching Shaw adoringly as she walks away, remembering how her ass felt in her hands.

When the boys get back, Shaw’s cleaning her guns, looking bored.  “I need to check on Ms. Groves,” Harold announces.  Shaw says nothing. Reese grabs Finch’s chair straddling it backwards, trying to pick at Shaw’s leftover sandwich without her noticing.  He’s not surprised when she slaps his hand away, growling.  “Can you fire a gun with only four fingers?”

Looking confused and a little bit troubled, Finch returns from checking on Root.  Not sure how to frame it, he glances at Shaw.  “Trouble Finch?"  Shaw drawls.  “Not exactly, Ms. Groves appears to be sleeping…  Ms. Shaw, did anything untoward happen while we were away?”  Face expressionless, Shaw replies, “Not unless you count Bear stealing my fries untoward.”  His fears not allayed, Harold finally brings himself to ask what he really wants to know.  “Then why is your jacket in the cage?”  Shaw ignores him and Reese smirks, earning himself an evil look from Shaw.

 


	7. She's So Hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Of course,” Shaw thinks, “having an emotionally disturbed, ruthless, and morally bereft woman with a connection to an omniscient computer on your side always comes in handy. What could possibly go wrong?”

While keeping Root locked in the Faraday cage, the team turns its attention to HR and the ongoing corruption within the NYPD. Although successfully dismantling HR and arresting the key players, Carter is killed in the process and Reese is seriously wounded. Her death sends Reese over the edge. Despite his potentially fatal wounds, Reese sets out to seek vengeance against the member of HR that killed Carter, Simmons; leaving in his wake a trail of death, violence, and destruction. The team fears for his life, as well as his soul, sensing Reese will lose a part of himself he will never be able to recover.

As their leads disappear and the carnage grows in Reese's wake, Shaw argues with Harold for Root's release.  More than once she's made it plain.  "We need Root."  But Harold clings to his misguided code even after Carter's death.  Shaw knows Root can help them.  And she knows Root will help them.  There's more to Root than the psychopath label Finch's saddled her with.

Something's going on and she's not sure even Root knows what or whether she's just keeping it from them.  But although it makes her extremely uncomfortable, Shaw knows she trusts her.  At first she thought it was just the sex muddling her thoughts.  But Root didn't run when she could have and she's trying to earn Finch's trust in a very transparent way.  She's not trying to manipulate him.  She's just asking for trust, the same way she asked Shaw not so long ago.  She kept her word then and she kept it when she didn't run after Shaw deactivated the ankle monitor.  Shaw's certain.  Root can and will help them if they give her the chance.

"Time's up, Harold."  Finch knows Shaw is deadly serious when she uses his first name.  "This is not something we should go about lightly."  Shaw's frustration is clearly evident in the way she emphasizes her words with her body.  "It's the only way."  She knows violence won't work with Finch so Shaw's trying to reason with him, but she's already decided she will release Root herself if he doesn't do it.

Harold's vibrating with indecision.  "There will be larger consequences If we make this decision-- we need to be ready for that."   _Seriously?  Does he not see we're out of time if we're going to save John?_   Shaw takes a deep breath.  "John isn't gonna make it if he winds up in  a crossfire between a bunch of feds and organized criminals in his current state."

Shaw realizes Finch is afraid.  Afraid of Root or afraid for John she's not sure.  "I know this is our only option, Ms. Shaw.  I just want to make sure we're prepared for what may happen."  Shaw doesn't even hesitate.  "I'm in. Are you?"  As Shaw's arming herself, Finch lets Root out.  Nothing shows on Shaw's face, but she knows she wants Root with them.  With her. 

Root rides in the back with Lionel while Shaw drives, intending to intercept John at his next stop, the location where the feds are guarding the head of HR, Quinn.  Quinn’s the only person aware of the specifics of Simmons’ exit strategy. They're also hoping to head off the Russians.

Shaw catches Root's eyes in the rear-view mirror.  Root looks at her confidently and it makes Shaw feel better although she won't admit it.  Root leans forward, speaking softly in Shaw's ear as she guides them with the help of the Machine.  "We're close.  Turn off the headlights."  But trust still doesn't come easy to Shaw.  "How am I supposed to see?" 

"You don't need to.  Steady for another 800 feet.  Adjust left when you feel it."  Even for Root this is inscrutable.  "Feel what?"  But of course, she feels the bump while her words are still hanging in the air.  Shaw hopes she won't regret placing her faith in Root.  _Of course having an emotionally disturbed, ruthless, and morally bereft woman with a connection to an omniscient computer on your side always comes in handy. What could possibly go wrong?_  

When they get out of the car, Fusco balks at following Root's lead.  As Root tries to convince him, Shaw doesn't take her eyes off her.  It occurs to Shaw that Root is a force to be reckoned with, with or without the Machine. 

Root casually invades Shaw's space.  "May I have a gun now?"  Shaw realizes she doesn't really mind Root standing so close.  But she has to maintain some control.  "What's with you and your poor listening skills?  No. Way."  Although she knows she's smiling slightly.  Root sighs, muttering under her breath, "really Shaw?" and looks over Shaw's shoulder.  "Then you better turn around."  Shaw turns in time to shoot and the agent goes down.  Root leads them into the building only stopping to grab the agent's radio.  She could've taken the gun, but she's willing to wait until Shaw agrees.

Shaw incapacitates two more agents and puts the third in a sleeper hold, while Root politely holds the door for her.  Root knows there are too many agents for Shaw to deal with alone.  Finch won't shoot and Fusco's pretty much useless unless you point him to the target and tell him to shoot.  So Root tries again, whining a little.  "Can I please have a gun now?" Root checks for danger.  Shaw's still struggling with the agent but stubbornly refuses.  "No and you're really starting to irritate me by asking."  Root has to admit it makes her wet looking at Shaw subdue a guy three times her body weight and twice her size.

But surprisingly it's Finch who decides Root should have a weapon.  "As far as Root's request for a weapon, Ms. Shaw, the situation is becoming increasingly dangerous.  And if she wanted to kill us, I'm guessing she could have done so many times already."  Root knows better than to agree out loud but she does nod her head like it's obvious.  Shaw rolls her eyes.  No way Root could've killed her even if she tried.  But she's not really worried about Root being armed.  She's not sure why she's been stubbornly refusing.  "Speak for yourself, Harold.  But fine.  Whatever.  Take it."

Shaw hands Root a gun and Root smiles at her indulgently.  "Can I have a second one please?"  Root holds out her hand and Shaw stares at her for a second.  "Two guns at once? That's kinda lame."  Root looks at her like she knows Shaw's going to change her mind soon enough.  It's also obvious Shaw's trying to hide a smile.  This has become their pattern.  Quip, counter-quip.

Shaw looks at Root like a parent who's given in to their child's whining.  "You all set? Let's head up." Shaw turns to the stairwell, waiting to bring up the rear.  But Root doesn't move.  "Too late."  Root heads to the front door as two cars screech to a stop outside.  Masked men with rifles leap out and head towards the doors.  

Root looks completely unconcerned as she raises her guns and starts firing.  Fusco hangs back a minute wondering where Root's going, but Shaw follows immediately.  As Root starts firing, Shaw positions herself to the right in Root's peripheral vision firing as she moves forward.  Fusco comes late to the party and definitely seems scared, plus having to fire with a busted finger is not exactly useful.  Shaw melds to Root's right as they keep firing.  When Root lowers her arms all the men outside are down. 

Shaw can't help it.  Root with a gun turns her on.  But its more than the sexy gun.  Root shows no fear in the face of danger.  She steps up and does what needs to be done.  Shaw respects that and her respect is not easy to earn.  She looks away but can't help it.  "Okay that was kinda hot."   Shaw fully expects Root to capitalize on her lapse, but Root knows now's not the time.  "I'll watch the front.  You should head up.  We're almost out of time."

Once they're heading safely upstairs, Root scours the perimeter.  As she does, she thinks about Shaw.  It almost eerie how in sync they work together.  Instinctively they adjust to each other bodies as if they were meant to fit together.  Shaw was right.  It was hot.  Root wishes they had time to work off the adrenaline in other ways, but there's still danger and they need to get John out quickly if he's going to make it.

Root drives while Shaw tends to John in the back seat.  Shaw's anxious, wanting to go after Simmons.  But Root knows something no one else does.  "The machine never said Reese was the only one planning to kill Simmons."  With that sentence Shaw knows Root's telling her Simmons will be taken care of the way John wanted.  They lock eyes in the rear-view mirror and Shaw nods slightly in acknowledgement.  Finch looks at Root with suspicion but she doesn't say anything else.

They save John.  As Shaw stands by his bed-side, she remembers Root.  "Where's Root?"  But she's certain Root didn't leave, just as sure as she's breathing.  She leaves Finch with John and finds Root in the cage, Bear at her feet.  Root puts down the book she had been reading.  "Hey sweetie, how's the big Lug?" 

"He's going to make it thanks to you."  Root nods her head, genuinely glad to hear it.  Shaw comes and leans on the table where Root is sitting.  Words don't come easy, but Shaw takes a deep breath.  "Thanks...for saving my friend."  She leans down and captures Root's lips, tugging her up by her shirt.  As they lick and bite and claim each other, they both know things between them have morphed into something more.  It worries them both.  But they're no longer in control.  Shaw breaks free reluctantly and walks away, forcing herself not to look back.

When she gets back to John's bedside, she tells Finch Root didn't leave.  It seems like he doesn't believe her at first, but then nods his head in acceptance.


	8. Hammer Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It'd be like giving a five-year-old keys to a jet—irresponsible and stupid.”

As soon as Reese is well enough to walk, he leaves the team.  Finch, demoralized, stops accepting any numbers. 

Both Shaw and Root know something is wrong.    

Shaw knows criminals in NY didn’t all take a sabbatical.  She calls Finch again to check in.  “We have a new number yet?”

“No, not at this time.”  But Shaw hears what Finch is not saying in the silence.  “It’s been a while.  Guess the city's scumbags have been behaving.”  Yeah right.  Shaw knows something else is going on.  Harold sounds tired.  “We could use a little quiet.”

But Shaw’s crawling out of her skin with nothing and no one to do.  Both needs inextricably linked at the moment.  For some reason her libido seems to be taking a vacation…from everyone except Root. 

Even taking matters into her own hands has been singularly unsatisfying.  Particularly since its always Root's hands, and mouth, and body she’s craving.  The worst part is she knows exactly where to find her, but still can’t have her.        

“I don't do quiet.  That's why I took this is job, and the one before that.”

“Not sure I appreciate being associated with your former employers, who tried to kill you.”  Although he can’t see her, Shaw rolls her eyes frustration leaking from her tone.  “It's not like this job's any safer.”

Always choosing action over inaction, Shaw decides to pay him a visit.  Maybe she can get him to leave long enough to catch a quickie with Root.  Now she has a mission and feels much better.

Root knows Finch is ignoring the Machine and she tries to convince him he needs to stop indulging in the pity party he’s throwing himself.  “I'll be going out for provisions later.  Please let me know if there's anything in particular you require.” 

But Root just has a simple request.  “Just a book from your cart.  Top shelf, third from the right.”

Harold brings her the book.  “False gods: Pseudepigrapha in the modern age? Doing a little light reading, Ms. Groves?”  Root places a book on top of two other books she already had.  “I know it's been hard for you Harold, what with everything you've been through.  And now even John's left.  Still, you really shouldn't take it out on Her.”

Harold feigns ignorance.  “I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.”  Root flips the books so Finch can see the spines.  “I'm talking about you ignoring Her.  She has a new number for us.”

Finch sidesteps the question by focusing on how Root was able to get a number from the Machine.  “How did you get this? Are you communicating with the Machine?”  But Root isn’t so easily side-tracked.  “I understand why you want to quit, Harold.  But now is not the time.  She wants us to work together.”

Finch glances around the cage suspiciously, intensely curious as to how Root is communicating with the Machine.  He makes a hasty exit, but still takes the books with him.

Finch doesn’t notice Shaw’s standing in the entrance to the library.  She overheard his conversation with Root.  “I knew you were holding out on me.”  Finch’s visibly startled.  “Must you do that?”  Shaw’s not so easily distracted either.  “We have a new number.”  It's not a question. 

Finch’s answers defensively.  “I haven’t decided.”

Shaw looks and sounds affronted.  “Decided? I didn't think you got to decide.”   

“Actually, I do.”  Shaw, always the pragmatist has a follow-up question.  “Okay, well, is that going to happen anytime soon, or should I be looking for some action elsewhere?”

In the background she hears Root's snort of laughter.  She makes a note to punish her later.  Hopefully she’ll get the chance, since Finch doesn’t have much reason to stay at the library all night if they’re not working numbers.

A part of Harold knows both Shaw and Root are right.  How those two keep ending up on the same side is a mystery.  But he relents and looks up the new number.  Although he doesn’t tell Shaw, he knows the number.  Needing time to think, he announces he’s taking Bear for a walk.  

While Harold walks Bear, Shaw wanders over to the cage, gripping one of the links with her fingers.  Root comes over, intertwining one of her fingers with Shaw's.  Being kept apart from Shaw has been the worst part of trying to prove to Harold she can be trusted.  It's only at the Machine's insistence that Root allows her continued imprisonment.  

But knowing it's not Shaw's call, Root settles for licking her lips slowly, sex dripping from her voice.  "Hey sweetie, I've missed you."  Not anticipating her body's betrayal, Shaw can't hide her dilating pupils, although she looks down nonchalantly.  Root recognizes the spark of desire and Shaw knows it. 

Recovering, her scowl back in place, Shaw rolls her eyes.  "Hey yourself.  At least here I know you're not getting yourself into trouble."  Pressing her advantage, Root smiles knowingly, lowering her voice and cocking her head towards Shaw, while gently squeezing their intertwined fingers, "Why Sameen, I didn't realize you spent time thinking about me at all." 

Refusing to let Root see how her voice sends pleasant chills up her back, Shaw keeps their gazes locked and slowly pulls away from Root's hand, scowling.  Lying counters everything in her nature, so she doesn't deny Root occasionally, if occasionally means frequently, occupies her thoughts; but she won't admit it either.  She takes a step back and smirks.  "Don't flatter yourself."

Since she can't follow her, Root decides to stop teasing before Shaw stomps away.  Allowing one side of her mouth to rise in a slight smile, she changes the subject.  "You know I could help with this number.  Cover identities are my specialty."  Knowing she's right, but unwilling to release Root against Harold's wishes, Shaw sighs, rolling her eyes.  "I'm sure we'll manage."  Any further conversation's forestalled by Harold's return. 

Shaw quickly steps away from Root before he looks up from unleashing Bear.  Amused at Shaw's cat-like reflexes, Root covers her laugh with a cough when Shaw glares at her behind Harold's back.  Knowing there's no point in asking Harold to let her out before he's ready, Root saunters over to the bench and picks up a book, slowly twirling it in her hands pensively. 

Finch decides to send Shaw in undercover, but stays behind on the pretext he needs to investigate further. 

Looking over at Root, Shaw knows that look means trouble, but there's no time to decipher it, and she heads out, glancing back.  Root gives a tiny wave and a smirk.  _Yep.  Definitely trouble._

The number, Arthur Claypool, is the architect of another AI, Samaritan.  He’s also an old friend of Finch’s.  As Shaw and Finch investigate, they realize, belatedly, that Control has also discovered Arthur and is after Samaritan.

Control captures all three of them, threatening to kill them unless they reveal the location of their respective AIs.    

Back at the library, Root knows something's wrong.  The Machine's gone silent.  Root never actually lost contact with Her.  Although they may not be able to communicate directly, they’ve been using Morse code or, if Harold’s not around, the Machine uses Harold’s laptop.

Harold always leaves the computer on, thus the Machine uses the microphone to communicate with Root.  The cage isn’t soundproof, something Harold should’ve considered when he thought he was severing Root’s link to Her.

“You need to tell me what’s going on.  I have to help them.”  The Machine doesn’t answer right away, calculating the odds.  There is a high probability of injury to Root if she goes after them, but an even higher probability of Admin’s death if she doesn’t.

The Machine tells Root where to find the backup key in the archives.  _Shit, it’s fucking been in here all this time!  I could’ve at least sneaked out for quickie with Shaw._   Harold hid a spare key where Root could find it, in case something happened to him.

The only problem now is the ankle bracelet.  Finch’s device not only monitors her location but is also designed to deliver a shock strong enough to render her unconscious if she exceeds the proximity radius.  It takes the Machine a nanosecond to obtain the code for the bracelet. 

Not wasting any more time, she releases the ankle monitor and leaves the cage, rushing to the gun locker and arming herself.  Not even grabbing a jacket, she hits the sidewalk and heads in the direction of the coordinates the Machine's relaying.  Running hundreds of scenarios in a millisecond of time, the Machine calculates there's an unacceptable risk Root will be captured.  Having demonstrated nothing's stopping her from reaching Shaw, the Machine knows the risk will not alter Root's course of action.

Reaching the hallway outside the door keeping her from Shaw, Root pauses to catch her breath.  The Machine instructs her to wait until she hears two gun shots before attempting a rescue as the risk of capture will then decrease to an acceptable level.  Confused, Root looks into a camera she spots in the hallway. 

"What aren't you telling me?"  Not programmed to deceive, the Machine informs her asset Shaw will be shot in the head, eliminating the time Root would otherwise spend freeing her, allowing Root to get Harold and Claypool to the elevator safely.  Root feels a splintering of her belief in the Machine.

“Unacceptable.  I will not let her die.  If she dies, the next sound you'll hear is a bullet ripping through my brain."

Inside Shaw prepares for her execution.  She doesn’t have any useful information for Control, but she does possess secrets Control wants buried.  Shaw isn’t afraid of dying.  In fact, she’s lived far longer than she anticipated.  So as Control orders “…two in the head,” she remains outwardly unemotional, not so surprised to find its Root that comes to mind.   _Now would be a perfect time for one of her impromptu appearances._

As Shaw takes a deep breath, gunshots roar through the wall.  Chaos ensues and Shaw’s able to break free.  She knows without a doubt its Root.  The door bursts open and Root strides in fearless, two semi-automatics spitting bullets as fast as she can pull the triggers, which Shaw realizes is pretty damn fast.

Root fires continuously, making her way to Shaw, who’s already armed, but restrained by zip-ties.  “I told you Harold—we were supposed to work together.”  _Only Root…_   “Scold him later, Root.  Cut me loose.” 

Root does and they stand seamlessly unleashing a barrage of bullets pushing Control’s agents back and forcing them to take cover.  Standing sideways, only inches separating them, their hands raised in unison, they share a brief look.  It’s one of glee.  They both love a good gunfight.  Shaw has an added thought.  _This is even hotter._  

“Come on.  Let's move.  Make a left at the end of the hallway to the service elevator.”  Root lays cover fire while Shaw guides Harold and Arthur to the elevator.  “This way, go.”  She turns, waiting for Root.  But before she makes it to Shaw, she's shot from behind, driving her to the floor.  Without hesitation and without seeking cover, Shaw raises her gun and fires repeatedly forcing the gunman back.  Root screams at her.  “Elevator code's 5228#.  Go!” 

She hesitates, locking her gaze on Root’s.  But in a split second she realizes staying will only get them all killed.  Conflicted in a way she would have sworn was impossible, she pivots to the elevator, urgently ushering Harold and Claypool inside.  Angry, she knows she’ll never forgive herself for leaving Root behind or the Machine for failing to protect her. 

Root’s captured but still smiles.  She saved them.  She saved Shaw.  Knowing she’s going to need a place inside herself to help escape the pain, Root focuses on her and then braces herself for what she knows is coming.

Outside, Shaw breaks into a car for their escape, but hangs back, waiting for Root.  She knows there’s no way Root can fight her way out, wounded and outnumbered, but still she waits, giving her every second she can.   Control’s agents appear, unleashing a steady stream of bullets towards the car.  She has no choice, “We have to go…”  Banging her hands on the car’s console as Harold drives, Shaw’s anger spirals until she can’t breathe.  Beyond worried and scared, Harold glances over at her.

Shaw has left people behind before when missions went sideways.  Never feeling guilty or questioning herself.  Yet here she sits, responsible for Harold and Arthur’s safety, and she can’t concentrate because all she can focus on is the look on Root’s face as Shaw turned away and the consequences for Root of being captured. 

Shaw knows Root would do it all over again.  But the knowledge carries no comfort and doesn’t begin to touch what she feels at leaving Root behind.  Powerlessness isn’t a familiar state, especially knowing even if Root’s alive, she won’t survive intact.  Of all people, she's intimately familiar with Control's methods; a line doesn’t exist Control won’t cross or a torture method so vile she won’t utilize until she’s satisfied there’s nothing left to gain.

She regrets leaving Root behind; it's an ache pressing into her chest making it difficult to breathe.  But she’s not a regret type person and she despises herself for the weakness.  Still angry, she hates Root makes her feel.  This need to protect Root overriding inherent self-preservation instincts makes no sense.  

But as much as she rebels against it, Root’s now a part of her, a necessary one.  Otherwise, she'd be operating at peak efficiency right now, applying her energy to destroying Samaritan.  If she could do it all over again, she’d run as far away from Root as possible.  She can’t fathom how people cope with all these nuanced emotions and wishes fervently she could get rid of them.

 

* * *

 

Control begins her interrogation, attempting to persuade Root to tell her the Machine’s location. Unmoved by Control’s bribes and appeal to her patriotism, Root keeps her knowing smile and tells Control, “It'd be like giving a five-year-old keys to a jet—irresponsible and stupid.” Control begins dosing Root with alternate shots of barbiturates and amphetamines. The drugs are meant to shock her system, stopping and starting her heart abruptly.  Course after course of drugs, Root remains steadfast in her refusal to give Control any actionable information regarding the Machine.  Instead she thinks about Shaw, fantasizing the life they could have together.  But she knows her heart can only take so much.

Meanwhile, Shaw and Harold rush to the bank where Claypool has stashed Samaritan’s core program on two drives hidden in a safe deposit box. Harold locks Claypool and himself in the bank vault in order to escape Vigilance; wishing Shaw “good luck” and leaving her on her own to develop a plan to get them all out of there alive. Retrieving the drives from the safe deposit box, Claypool destroys them at Harold’s insistence.

With Control’s drugs slowly killing her, Root pleads with the Machine for help, finally admitting to Control she’s the interface. Although she’s giving Control truthful answers, Control is dissatisfied and disbelieving. She taunts Root with her phone, dangling contact with the Machine just out of reach, mockingly her.  “You say you're an interface? Your eyes and your ears are your ports, Input and output? We can put a stop to that,” she gloats.  “There is a bone in the back of your ear…It's very small. It's very important. Without it, sound can't travel from your ear to your brain. A stapedectomy is usually done under anesthesia, but I'm afraid that just won't be the case today.” Ignoring Root’s pleas, Control slices her skin open with a scalpel.  Root focuses her mind on Shaw, escaping to the safest place she's ever known.

At the bank, Shaw devises a plan for escape involving a pipe bomb and the sewer system, which helps to suppress all the useless speculation in her mind about Root. Trepidation evident in his voice, Harold questions the wisdom of such an intrepid move.  Not being able to disguise the excitement in her voice, Shaw counters…“There's a time for a scalpel and a time for a hammer. It's hammer time.”  Plus the sooner Shaw gets them out of here, the sooner she can go back for Root, having no intention of leaving her with Control a second longer than absolutely necessary.

Her faith in the Machine rewarded, Root explains to Control the Machine has been communicating with her through Morse code ever since Control brought her phone into the interrogation cage. Belatedly, Control realizes Root lifted the knife she had in her pocket. Root cuts herself free and attacks Control, who cowers.

Shaw infiltrates the vault and rescues Harold and Claypool. Attempting to make their escape, Vigilance intercepts them. Facing down the armed gunmen, shots ring out. Reese and Fusco appear, laying cover fire, forcing the Vigilance agents to retreat. The team escapes through the sewer system. The minute Shaw leads everyone to safety, she disappears.

Shaw doesn’t question her motives or the prudence of her actions. She lets anger fuel her as she attempts to track Root.  Shaw knows if Root's dead, she might not be able to live with it and struggles with the thought.  She's not supposed to feel like this, like anything really.  Visceral emotions she understands and can deal with.  Anger, lust, hunger.  But she's never felt this...connection...with anyone.  And that worries her almost as much as finding Root.

Having disarmed and incapacitated Control’s guards, Root turns the table and has Control tied to a chair. She serves as intermediary for a conversation between the Machine and Control. The Machine warns Control against seeking her out and Root leaves her alive. 

Wanting to return to Shaw, Root nevertheless leaves, knowing she needs intensive medical attention.  She’s suffering from severe arrhythmia and her heart is not pumping the blood her body needs.  The Machine tells her she’s about to suffer a cardiovascular collapse.  She makes it to a private clinic with Her assistance.

As soon as she’s stable, the Machine sends her on another mission outside the country.  Root’s reluctant, wanting to at least speak with Shaw but there’s no time.

The Machine tells her Shaw went back for her, tracking her to where she was being held.  The Machine monitored Shaw’s vitals and concluded she was experiencing intense pain, even though She did not detect any wounds. 

Root decides time apart will benefit them both.  The narrow escape shook them.  They need time to gain perspective.  In any case, Shaw's not one for clingy women, and even for Shaw, Root's not the type.

Locating the abandoned warehouse where Root was being held, Shaw finds only the unconscious guards. She can't ignore the overwhelming relief she feels knowing Root escaped. If Root were dead, she would know it. 

But she knows without a doubt Root’s hurt.  She saw the empty syringes and she knows what they do.  She also found a bloody scalpel and she suspects the blood belongs to Root.  Still wishing she could see to Root's health personally, she reassures herself by remembering Root's not helpless.  She wonders how she’s going to cope with whatever this is with Root. It’s exhausting.

Root calls Harold from Asia, giving him a message, the smile evident in her voice, “Tell Shaw I was touched she came to look for me.” 

Root needs her own time to come to terms with how she feels about Shaw and what it means for her devotion to the Machine.  She knows she can’t put the missions ahead of Shaw anymore, but it doesn’t bode well for either of them.  

Immediately changing the subject, she informs Harold the Samaritan drives were obtained by their mysterious enemy, Decima. The shock reverberates through Harold’s body as Root hangs up.


	9. The Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sweetie I know your tastes are eclectic, but are we really going to watch an infomercial on penile implants? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Shaw hasn’t seen or heard from Root since she saved them from Control.  It’s not unusual; Root’s missions often take her away for weeks at a time.  But this time there’s something off.  Shaw feels things just aren’t quite right. 

At first she thinks she must be coming down with the flu or eaten contaminated meat or something, but the feeling has persisted over time and there doesn’t seem to be anything Shaw can do to shake it.

She finally has to face it, this sinking feeling only started when Root left.  Maybe this is what people talk about when they miss something.  But Shaw’s never missed anything, much less anyone.  So that can’t be it.

It’s probably related to her failure to complete the mission successfully.  Her job is to protect people and she wasn’t able to do that when Control captured them or when Root was shot.  If she had done her job the drives wouldn’t have fallen into the wrong hands and Root wouldn’t have been tortured. 

Root accepts the risks willingly and she’s certainly not blind to them.  But it shouldn’t all fall on Root.  Shaw should be able to carry her own weight instead of needing to be rescued like some wet behind the ears recruit.  But it’s not like Shaw to obsess.  A mission fails and you analyze it, learn from it, and move on.

But memories of the look in Root’s eyes when she was shot, yelling at Shaw to go, sneak up on her at random times.  At night she dreams of Root, her taste, her smell, the way her tongue does delicious things to Shaw’s body.  Then she wakes up wet and frustrated and alone. 

She’s gone out a few times with the intent of picking up someone and fucking until she can’t think anymore.  But she always finds some deal breaking flaw in the myriad of people who hit on her. 

One night a hot brunette offered to buy her a drink and she accepted.  They flirted for a while, but the minute the woman leaned it to kiss her, Shaw turned her cheek.  Yes, she was a tall brunette with pretty brown eyes, legs that wouldn’t quit, and a great ass.  But she smelled wrong, her laugh was fake and grating, and there was no spark in her eyes.

Root misses NY, but mostly she misses Shaw.  She knows her missions are important, but it doesn’t make it any easier.  She can’t sleep right and the exhaustion has caused her to make some stupid mistakes, almost getting killed a couple of times.

Although the Machine can’t read minds, Finch built her to predict people.  She does that by analyzing every minute of a life, evaluating actions and reactions, down to the physiological changes that take place on any given time.  Her analysis of Root’s performance reveals Root is likely to get herself killed soon.  So she sends her back to NY to rest.

Root’s relieved.  She longs to be back with Shaw for more than a few stolen moments, but she has no clue how Shaw will react when they're in the same city again.  Dreading a reunion as much as she longs for it, she hesitates to contact Shaw when she arrives in NY.  But if she doesn’t reach out, Shaw won’t even know she’s there. 

Besides, hiding would be cowardly and unfair to both of them.  She starts to call, but doesn’t want to give Shaw the chance to push her away.  It’s much easier to hang up on someone than ignore them when they’re standing in front of you.

Walking on Shaw’s street, Root sees Shaw walking towards her from the opposite direction, keys already in hand as she turns onto the walkway to her building.  Slowing down, Root realizes the weeks without her felt like being underwater without oxygen; no way to breathe, no way to withstand the pressure, and no way to reach the surface.  She didn’t understand until this moment Shaw's a part of her.  A part she can't do without.

As Shaw approaches the door of her building, something makes her stop.  Looking around she doesn’t sense any danger.  But her instincts are buzzing and she knows she’s missing something.  Slowly she turns around and walks back to the sidewalk.  As she scans the street, she spots a familiar silhouette back-lit by the street light.  She goes numb, while all sorts of thoughts race through her mind.  Scowling, she reverts to form.  She’s angry. 

As she approaches the walkway, Root looks up to see Shaw staring at her, an indifferent look on her face.  Clearly this reunion is going to be an uphill climb.  Shaw struggles to remain impassive, briefly considering turning around and going upstairs.  But Root knows the code to the building and it’s not like she’ll hesitate to pick the lock on her apartment door.  So Shaw waits.

Root walks towards her calmly, steeling herself for whatever reaction she might get.  Stopping close enough to touch her, she gives a small genuine smile.  “Hey stranger…”  Shaw remains silent, but when Root reaches out to touch her she doesn’t pull away.  But she doesn’t welcome it either.

“What are you doing here Root?”  Root's determined not to let Shaw bait her.  “Visiting a friend.”  Stoic, Shaw tells her dryly, “I didn’t know you knew someone else in this building.” Root reconsiders; it’s not going to be an uphill climb, it’s going to be more like scaling a mountain.

“Sam, I thought we were beyond this tug of war.  I wasn’t gone that long.  Do we have start over?"  Shaw can no longer feign indifference so she lets her anger flare, growling, “Define 'that long'…You know what? Never mind; I don’t really care.  And there’s nothing to start.” 

Root actually perks up at the response; Shaw missed her.  Turning her back on Root, Shaw walks up to the vestibule.  Feeling Root behind her, she hisses. “Leave Root.”  Root ignores her and pulls on her upper arm. 

Tensing, Shaw doesn’t turn around but doesn’t pull away either.  She's talked herself into ending this…thing… with Root several times while Root was gone. But now she's here and Shaw wants her to stay.  It makes no sense and Shaw doesn’t want to feel this way.  Anger is the only useful feeling, increasing focus and determination.  Anything else is just distracting.  A weakness Shaw refuses to allow. 

But she knows she’s no longer really in control.  Although she’s expert at hiding her thoughts, her body betrays her at every turn.  She can’t pull away from Root.  Her heart races, her skin tingles, and she knows her eyes reveal wanting and need. 

A number once told Shaw she could feel but she had her volume turned really low.  Maybe the kid was right.  There’s no denying her volume’s turned up high whenever Root’s around.  But it’s too intense.  Root makes a lie of everything she believes about…well…everything. 

So Shaw doesn’t pull away from Root’s grip and Root doesn’t let go of her arm.  Knowing she's struggling with feelings she wants to ignore, Root keeps her voice casual, “Sam, if you really want me to leave, I will.  But neither one of us is going to feel better if I do.”  Shaw sighs and doesn’t respond.  She enters the code to the door and silently climbs the stairs to her apartment.  She unlocks the door and steps in but leaves the door open behind her.  Root knows this is as good an invitation as she’s going to get. 

Taking off her coat and shoes and dropping her bag by the door, Root hears Shaw stomp into the bathroom.  Undaunted, Root walks over to the kitchen intending to grab them both a beer.  It’s the first time she’s been in Shaw’s apartment without breaking in first. 

As she opens the fridge, she glances at the counter and notices something on the back of a stool. It’s Root’s leather jacket. She left it at the library the day she escaped the Faraday cage.  Picking it up, she detects Shaw’s unique scent.  She’s obviously been wearing it.  Knowing discretion is the better part of valor, she puts it back and decides not to say anything, but gives a low chuckle.  Grabbing the beers, she heads to the couch, but not before she notices the apples in the fruit bowl.  Smiling and shaking her head, she wonders if Shaw realizes reminders of Root are all over her loft.

As she sits on the couch, she hears Shaw coming out of the bathroom.  Not turning to look at her, Root raises one of the beers over her head.  It takes a few seconds, but Shaw snatches it out of her hand. 

Root’s deliberately sitting in the middle of the couch so Shaw will have no choice but to sit next to her.  Ignoring her, Shaw picks up the remote and turns on the TV.  Root stretches her legs out and leans back on the couch, sipping her beer, definitely not going anywhere anytime soon. 

Shaw knows she’s being unreasonable.  She’s spent the last couple of months wanting Root with her and worrying she’s wounded or dead on some mission for the Machine.  Now Root’s here and she can’t breathe, like she's suffocating but only Root can provide resuscitation.  Her feelings are all over the place.  She’s angry and uncomfortable and excited all at once.

“Sweetie I know your tastes are eclectic, but are we really going to watch an infomercial on penile implants?  Is there something you’re not telling me?”  Rolling her eyes, Shaw grabs the remote and channel surfs for a few minutes, finally setting on a channel playing The Usual Suspects.  Root knows this is one of Shaw’s favorite movies and she hopes it will help her relax so they can sort out her feelings and move on to the good part.  Thinking about Shaw when she masturbates is a poor substitute for the real thing.

Realizing Root’s not going to pressure her into talking, Shaw starts to relax, not saying anything when Root scoots closer a little while later.  When she finishes her beer, Root gets up to get her another one, knowing alcohol is her new best friend. She's not trying to get her drunk, but a buzz might lower her inhibitions enough for them to reconnect. 

When the movie finishes, Shaw stands up.  She doesn’t look at Root but her tone is matter of fact.  “You’re not sleeping here Root.” Blithely, Root answers in the seductive tone she knows secretly turns Shaw on.  “Who said anything about sleeping?” 

Rolling her eyes, Shaw points towards the door.  They both know she's perfectly capable of physically removing Root from her apartment, but she doesn't move.

Sighing, Root realizes she’ll have to coax Shaw into talking because this situation is going nowhere fast.  Shaw walks over to the door and opens it partway, gesturing for Root to leave.  But Shaw should know Root doesn’t ever give up, no matter what Shaw says or does.  She walks over to the door and uses her right hand to close it firmly, pulling Shaw into her body.

She nibbles on her ear and Shaw shudders like she's cold but too stubborn to reach for a blanket.  They both know Shaw’s reflexes are lightening fast.  She could’ve stopped Root.  Root’s still holding Shaw by the upper arms and prepares to feel her yanking out of her embrace.  But she doesn’t move.  Root gradually lowers her arms and intertwines her fingers with Shaw’s, resting her chin on Shaw’s shoulder. 

Root feels Shaw’s increased heart rate and her rapid breathing.  She whispers softly.  “Do you still want me to leave Sam?”  Shaw doesn’t say anything, but she clasps her hands loosely around Root’s waist.  Root brings her hands to rest on her shoulders, lightly caressing the nape of her neck.  She lowers her forehead, resting it on Shaw’s.  They stand there for several minutes just breathing.  “You can always leave later,” Shaw decides, pulling away from her. 

“Glad that’s settled,” Root mutters.  “You mind if I take a shower? I came from the airport and it was a long flight."  Shaw doesn’t answer but brings her a clean towel.  _Guess that’s a yes._ Hoping Shaw will settle down while she’s in the shower, she takes her time.  When she steps out of the shower, she sees a t-shirt and yoga pants from her bag hanging on the door handle.  Grinning and shaking her head, she puts her clothes on.  _I notice she didn’t bring me any underwear. Or a bra._

Talking to Shaw is like walking through a mine field, you'll never know what will set her off; but her actions always speak loud and clear.  When Root comes out of the bathroom, Shaw's back on the couch in only her tank top and boy shorts, pretending to watch TV.  Root knows she’s pretending because The Real Housewives blares from the screen.  Shaw wouldn’t watch that show if her life depended on it. 

Feeling relaxed, Root’s content to let Shaw figure out what she wants.  She walks over to the couch and lies down, her feet resting on Shaw’s lap.  Shaw ignores it and doesn’t move. 

The long flight and stress from the latest mission catch up with her and Root drifts off.  When she wakes Shaw hasn’t moved but the TV’s off.  Shaw’s staring at the ceiling, her face blank.  She looks over when she feels Root shift.  “I didn’t want to wake you.”  Root smiles.  “Thanks.  I needed the nap.  The missions have been particularly grueling lately.” 

She knows Shaw’s curious about where she's been, but doesn’t want to ask because that might mean admitting she’s not as indifferent as she pretends.  She doesn’t say anything else. 

“You could’ve let the team know what was going on.”  Root answers noncommittally.  “I called Harry from Asia; didn’t he give you my message?”  Shaw glares.  “That was two months ago Root!” 

Knowing Shaw needs to slowly work herself up to what she really wants to say, Root responds casually.  “Harry knows he can always reach me through the Machine, but I didn’t hear from him.  Did something happen?” 

Finally reaching the tipping point, Shaw explodes.  “Yes, Root, something happened…You risked your life to save mine, were tortured because of it, and then you disappeared!”  Searching her face, Root decides Shaw may be able to bear a little honesty.  “So to clarify, you were worried about me and you’re angry because you haven’t heard from me in two months?”  Glaring at Root, Shaw bites out, “Yes!” 

Root smiles at her indulgently.  “I’m sorry Sameen.  You’ve made it pretty clear you don’t want anything other than sex from me, so I thought we’d catch up the next time I was in the city.”  

Huffing and clenching her teeth, Shaw growls.  “I’d be concerned about anyone I’d left behind during a mission.”  Root's still smiling.  “But you knew I was okay a few days later when I called Harry.”  She knows they’ve come to crunch time, either Shaw’s going to open up or they’ll have sex and ignore her continued turmoil.  No way is Root leaving without the sex.

Sighing, Shaw shakes her head.  “This is exactly why this needs to end.”  Root considers her next words carefully.  “Sam, what exactly are we ending?  We’ve had sex exactly twice, admittedly incredible sex…why would you want to stop?” 

Shaw apparently has exhausted her rationalizations, because she looks at Root openly, although resigned.  “We both know it’s more than sex.”  Thoughtfully, Root responds, “Yes, it is.  But Sam, I’m not asking you for anything.  I don’t want to change how you live your life.  I’m certainly not trying to be your girlfriend.”

“That’s exactly the problem Root.  It makes me uncomfortable and itchy the way you look at me, the way you never let my anger bother you, and the way you make me feel.”  Root proceeds cautiously.  “We see each other all the time, Sam.  Do you think any of that is going to change just because we stop having sex?” 

Shaw runs her hands through her hair in frustration.  “It’s not the sex.”  Although Root could skip to the chase, Shaw needs to come to her own realizations in her own time.  “Okay, I’m listening.  What’s it about?”

“You make me feel like I'm riding a Maserati going 180 miles down a dead end street.  It's so intense, like my whole world is compressed into a tiny ball where only you and I exist.  When you’re gone there’s always a sick feeling in my stomach like someone hit me with a bat.” 

Knowing they’re finally getting to the heart of the matter, Root smiles genuinely and tries to frame their connection so Shaw can relate.  “We’re connected like bullets to a gun, Sam.  They don't work unless you put them together.  That happened the first time we met.  You can run, but wherever you go, your gun will still need my bullet." 

Root leers, fearing Shaw might implode if she doesn't release the pressure valve.  "Maybe if you shift all the energy from fighting it to understanding it, you’d feel more comfortable with the grip.”  Shaw smirks and rolls her eyes.  "That's the corniest thing I've ever heard."  Root laughs and agrees.

“Sam, feeling doesn’t make you weak.  I feel intensely and you might be able to call me psychotic, morally depraved, and plenty of other things, but never weak.  Does the sick feeling go away when we’re together?”  Nodding yes, Shaw looks miserable. 

“Look, I don’t need you to feel or behave in any certain kind of way.  I don’t need you to express your feelings or do anything you don’t want to do.  But if you’re going to push me away, do it because that’s what you _really_ want, not because you’re afraid of what you _do_ want.” 

Shaw searches her eyes for a hint of deception.  Apparently she finds none and nods her head slightly.  “And what do get out of this arrangement?” 

“Oh sweetie, that’s simple.  Hot sex, some of your time, and a wildly unpredictable future.  Speaking of sex, are you up for it?”  Sounding like herself again, Shaw grins wickedly.  “Always.” 

Root laughs.  Shaw claims she doesn’t have feelings but it occurs to her Shaw seems to want to talk about it a lot.  She doesn’t fool herself into thinking Shaw won’t bolt again, but maybe she’ll think about it first next time. 

Distracted by her thoughts, she’s startled when Shaw pulls her off the couch with one hand, yanking her t-shirt off with the other.  Immediately pushing her back on the couch, she bends down and yanks off Root’s yoga pants. 

The minute she's naked, Shaw strips and straddles her.  She pulls Root’s hair hard, exposing her neck, letting her teeth graze down to her collarbone.  Root forces Shaw to look at her, grabbing her chin firmly, and uses her lips to savor every inch of her mouth like she's memorizing it. 

Morphing pleasure into pain she scrapes her nails down Shaw’s back, wanting to ground her in the moment.  Shaw’s frustrated she can’t reach enough of Root in their current position, so she uses her body to turn them until Root’s under her.

She straddles Root again, center to center, and bends down to lick and bite her nipples, her long hair loose and framing her face.  Root arches when she bites down hard on her nipple like she's starving, while using the palm of her hand to tease the other one. 

Root reaches down between them, using her longer limbs to her advantage, and strokes Shaw’s clit once.  Gasping, Shaw shoots up to give Root better access.  Root raises her knees slightly to anchor her, gripping her hip with one hand, and using the other to touch her sex with an easy familiarity, a gossamer touch that makes Shaw’s body shiver. 

Root traces a single finger along the fringe of her folds, making her hiss like a startled snake.  Shaw puts one hand on the back of the couch for balance and the other on Root’s knee.  Root's finger slowly and knowingly enters inside for just a moment.  Looking into Shaw's eyes, she takes it into her mouth and softly sucks.

Still holding her gaze, she puts her hand between her own legs.  Reaching up she brings her finger to Shaw's lips, playing it over her mouth and pushing it gently inside then pulling out just as softly.

Meandering down Shaw’s body, Root runs her nail over her nipples, then trails her finger down her abdomen, playing her hand over her muscles, which are taut as a guitar string.  She reaches Shaw’s center, teasing her opening while grazing her clit with her thumb.  Shaw’s squirming and biting her lip.

“Root…stop…teasing.”  Root enters her without warning, loving the feel of Shaw around her fingers.  She’s using three fingers, thrusting deep within her, feeling the soft flesh of her walls contract against her hand.  She uses the palm of her hand to push Shaw’s clit rhythmically as her thrusts become frantic, like time's running out. 

Her grip is going to leave a bruise on Shaw's hip, which just turns Root on more.  She can’t get enough of the sounds Shaw’s making.  “Don’t stop…,” Shaw pants. 

Tilting her fingers slightly, Root taps Shaw’s g-spot like a keyboard and she’s playing her favorite song.  Shaw comes like a freight train with a desperate moan ripping from her throat.  As her orgasm ebbs, Root reluctantly withdraws her fingers.  She may not be able to fire a gun for a few days, but it is so fucking worth it. 

Her limbs week, Shaw leans down into Root and stretches out her legs.  “Fuck that was so good.”  Root laughs.  “I aim to please.  But let’s move to the bed, I’m sick of this couch.” 

Not sure she can move, Shaw nevertheless drags herself up, pulling Root by the hand, and straggles over to the bed. Practically falling into it, she pulls Root with her.  Off-balance Root tumbles in laughing. 

Lying down facing each other, their legs intertwined, their tongues delve into each other, deeper and longer, exploring like conquerors with new lands.   Root loves the feel of Shaw’s ass, it's tight but silky like a cloud, and she uses it to pull her closer, digging her nails in.  Shaw gasps in pleasure and leans into it.

Breaking apart Shaw lies on her back.  “Come here.” She tugs Root until Root’s straddling her.  “Now move higher.”  Understanding dawning on her face, Root feels her center throb like a pulsing heart. 

She settles over Shaw’s mouth and grabs on to the iron frame of the bed.  Shaw takes a moment to just breathe in Root’s scent and then languidly licks her sex from bottom to top, circling her clit.  Root can’t stop a moan and it escapes her mouth.  She looks down at Shaw, pupils dilated like an addict during a high.

Shaw tugs her down a little lower as she slips her tongue inside her.  “Sameen…that feels so fucking incredible…”  Shaw starts moving her tongue in and out, reaching as far into her as she can, Root rocking gently above her.

Pulling her tongue out and licking the length of her sex, Shaw nips her clit and Root shudders like a resonating string.  She starts licking with a slow shallow rhythm. Root starts squirming, desperate, her climax building like an ember coaxed into raging flames. 

Shaw speeds up but only incrementally, still not giving Root the friction she needs.  “Sameen…please…”  Shaw stills her tongue for a second, wanting to hear Root moaning.  It’s such a turn on Shaw’s nipples are hard and tingling. 

She slips two fingers inside without warning and resumes licking Root’s clit with strong, quick strokes.  Root tilts slightly to give her better access.  Stroking her g-spot in time with her licking, Shaw feels her hold her breath and tighten against her hand.  She palms Root’s abdomen with her other hand feeling the trembling start.  “Don’t stop…whatever you do…please don’t stop…” 

Root can barely get the words out, her orgasm hitting fast like a flash flood, while she maintains a death grip on the iron bar of the headboard.  Shaw slows down to smooth, light strokes on her clit, while still stroking her g-spot lightly. 

Shocked, Root feels another orgasm building.  Her focus narrows to a pin-point of light, feeling Shaw under her and in her.  Her second orgasm hits harder than the first as Shaw gives her g-spot a final stroke and slides her fingers out, slowing her tongue until Root’s thighs give out and she drops heavily on Shaw. 

Chuckling, Shaw playfully bites Root’s shoulder, and then kisses over the bite.  Root pulls her in for a kiss.  “Hmm…I taste good.”  Shaw rolls her eyes. 

“I’m going to take a quick shower, want to join me?”  Root groans.  “I don’t think I can move.”  Shaw looks at her with something resembling affection.  “The hot water will relax your muscles and you’ll be less sore tomorrow.” 

Although Root doesn’t mind smelling like sex with Shaw, she realizes Shaw’s offering a small bit of intimacy Root’s sure she’s never shared before.  She grins wickedly.  “Sure, but you’ll have to wash my back.” 

In the shower one thing seems to lead to another.  With the pretense of washing her back, Shaw pushes Root against the wet wall, pressing her breasts up against her back.  The feeling of Shaw’s nipples on her slick back makes Root moan.  Shaw bites down on her shoulder hard and Root braces herself against the wall and spreads her legs. 

She feels Shaw’s hot breath panting in her ear.  “Root are there any limits?”  Despite the heat suffusing both of them and the throbbing in her clit, Root knows it’s a real question.  There are plenty of things Root has never let anyone do to her, including the current vulnerable position she’s willingly in now.

She makes an effort to regulate her breath for a full minute.  Shaw waits patiently, nibbling on Root’s shoulder and stroking her hands up her sides.  Okay maybe Shaw’s not being that patient.  She takes a deep breath.  “No.”  Shaw’s moved in a way she never thought possible.  “Red, yellow, green, okay?”  Root nods in acquiescence.

Shaw slips her arm under Root’s and grips her shoulder from the front.  She runs her other hand down Root’s back slowly stopping at the curve of her ass.  She scrapes her nails down to the apex of her thighs hard, but not enough to break skin.  It feels delicious and Root bites her arm to stifle the cry that comes unbidden. 

Shaw circles Root’s entrance and feels the wetness pooling there.  She slips two fingers in easily and starts thrusting slowly.  Root feels herself stretching in accommodation.  Shaw thrusts her thumb between her fingers and coats it with Root’s wetness.  She rims Root’s ass, pushing the tip of her thumb in gently.

Root gasps.  Shaw pauses and Root pants harshly.  “Green, green, green…" as she slaps her hand against the wall.  Shaw inserts another finger into Root’s slit and pushes her thumb in to the knuckle.  She thrusts deep and fast, stroking Root’s g-spot while she slowly rotates her thumb in her ass.

Root feels so full and she forgets everything except the feel of Shaw fucking her, the conflicting sensations pushing her higher and higher.  “Root…you feel so tight around my fingers baby, I can feel your heart beat.” 

Shaw slides her other hand down and pinches Root’s clit and stars explode behind Root’s eyes and it feels so fucking good, so right…  Her orgasm rips through her and it goes on forever, Shaw fucking her through it, slowing in time to Root’s clenching pussy, withdrawing gently as her orgasm ebbs. 

Root’s legs can’t hold her but Shaw was ready for it and takes her weight, sliding down with her until they’re sitting on the floor.  Shaw tugs on her until Root’s practically in her lap.  She captures Root’s lips with her own, stroking softly with her tongue, scraping gently with her teeth.  She’s kissing her oh so gently and Root feels like she’s trying to tell her something, making some kind of promise.  Root finally finds her voice and breath.  “Wow Sam…that was…intense.  It felt so good.”  Shaw laughs.  “I have many skills.”  She helps Root up and they finish their shower.

When they’re back in the bedroom, Shaw crawls onto the bed and under the covers.  Root hovers uncertainly.  “Sameen, do you want me to go?”  She's well aware Shaw doesn’t do sleepovers. 

But Shaw lifts the blanket in invitation.  Root slides in, almost giddy.  “Go to sleep Root.”

Pulling the blanket up to cover them Shaw turns on her side hugging her pillow.  Root’s thinking of nothing in particular, sated and relaxed, when she feels Shaw scoot back into her.  She doesn’t make a big deal about it, not wanting to make Shaw uncomfortable, but she falls asleep with a contented smile on her face.

When Shaw wakes in the morning, Root’s gone and she feels a flash of irritation like a bright dart of sunshine.  But then she smells coffee.  Grabbing some boy shorts and a hoodie, she walks to the kitchen.  There’s a mug next to the coffeepot and a hastily written note.  “Definitely see you later.  We have a mission.”  Shaw takes a moment to savor the coffee and then makes her way to the library hoping she’ll get to shoot someone today.


	10. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw doesn't believe in much, certainly not some bucket of bolts with an overdeveloped ego and delusions of grandeur. But she believes in Root.

The Machine has put Root on the trail of an advanced supercomputing chip being developed by the NSA. In the wrong hands, the chip represents the next step in bringing Samaritan online. Guided by the Machine, she makes contact with a janitor, Cyrus Wells, a person the Machine says is instrumental in acquiring the chip.

The Machine gives the team Cyrus’ number as well.  Tracking down Cyrus in the park, Finch is sitting on a bench, holding an open newspaper obscuring his face.  Without giving any indication she’s seen him, Root sits down on the bench next to him, “You should know better than to try to sneak up on me, Harold.  Did you come to welcome me back to New York?”

Lowering the newspaper, he purses his lips, and explains in his typical measured way.  “Actually, we're here for Mr. Wells.  His number came at 7:04 this morning…When Mr. Reese and Ms. Shaw accessed the security system in the building where he works, they found you approaching him at precisely 7:04 a.m.  I've prepared a preliminary study of his digital footprint, and in my estimation the most dangerous thing In Cyrus Wells life is you.  Whatever your plan is, Ms. Groves, I believe you're going to get him killed.” 

It’s a windy overcast day and Root links her arm through Finch’s as they walk.  “Relax, Harold.  Nobody's getting anybody killed. Cyrus is perfectly safe with me.”  Finch seriously doubts that. “If the machine sent us his number, it may mean that you are placing Mr. Wells at risk.”  Root quips right back.  “Or it could mean I'm here to protect him.”

Keeping an eye on Finch, Reese and Shaw are also in the park observing from a discreet distance.  When Shaw saw Root on the security video this morning she groaned internally, knowing they’d all have to work together.

It’s not a problem for Shaw, but Finch is constantly on Root’s case.  Even before they got…closer…Shaw felt Finch was giving Root a raw deal.  Using her when convenient and discarding her when done.  Keeping her anger at Finch in check is going to be more of a problem than usual.

She also knows she’s gotten so comfortable with Root she doesn’t always notice when Root’s in her personal space or when she reaches out to touch her for no apparent reason.  John doesn’t say much, but he doesn’t miss anything.  Shaw knows he won’t judge her, but still it makes her uncomfortable being that transparent to someone else.

As they follow Cyrus through Central Park, Root tells Harold about Control’s torture.  “Honestly, Harold, keeping up with everything the Machine whispers in my ear can be tricky, especially now that I'm down to one.” Root sees the shock on Harold’s face.  “Oh, did you not hear about my chat with control?  She's fun…in an unnecessary stapedectomy kind of way. But I do miss music in stereo.”  Despite Root’s lackadaisical attitude and Harold’s ambivalence toward her, Harold still shudders with empathy thinking about Root’s torture.

Still following them, Shaw overhears their conversation.  The absolute rage that rises within her steals her breath.  She keeps going, walking next to John, revealing nothing.  But she's walking by rote, feeling heat rise through her body.  She can't hear herself think over the roar in her head.  Her body's itching for action, wanting to shoot someone, anyone.  Anger she knows, she understands.  But this feeling she can't control.  It's like a beast trying to claw its way out. She finds comfort in gazing at Root, knowing she's close, catching her scent in the wind.  She breathes evenly, slowly pushing down the rage until it’s a manageable simmering anger.

Shaw kicks herself.  She saw the scar behind Root’s ear in the shower and should have asked her about it.  But she was otherwise occupied at the moment and forgot to mention it later.  She had also noticed Root seemed not to hear her sometimes.  Always when Shaw was on her right.  Shaw made a mental note, but again, never asked.

It also doesn't escape Shaw's notice that if Finch had listened to Root to begin with and let her out of the cage, they might never have ended up captured and Root might still have her hearing.

Root’s still talking to Finch.  “The machine offered me a job. She never said it would be easy.”  Harold's clearly skeptical.  “And what job is that exactly?”  Root smiles.  “Trying to save the world, of course, by preventing the emergence of a second machine, genetically programmed, fully targetable, and nearly complete.  Samaritan presents a serious threat to our Machine, Harold, and Decima's trying to bring it to life.  Do you really want to see what it looks like when two gods go to war?”

Root’s blasé attitude makes Finch angry.  In a stream of consciousness worthy of Faulkner, he tells her all the things about Cyrus she should know.  “Perhaps you should ask the machine for a bit more information about Cyrus Wells before you deem him insignificant.”  Root tries to reassure him.  “He'll be fine, I promise.  I know it seems weird, but I'm one of the good guys now, Harold.”

Finch walks back to Reese and Shaw, asking them to follow Root until they can figure out what’s going on.  He looks at them in consternation, showing them an email Root just sent him.  “I’ll try to determine what message this is meant to convey.”  Apparently there’s a message from the Machine encoded in the picture.  If Shaw were the laughing sort, she’d be cracking up.  The picture is an advertisement for penile implants.  Shaw knows Root picked it on purpose.  She could’ve chosen any picture. 

Shaw starts to walk away, a tiny smirk on her face.  “Seems pretty clear to me Finch.”  As John turns to follow her, he takes a peek at the picture.  “I think she like you Harold.”  They leave him standing there looking more than a bit embarrassed.     

They follow Root to Cyrus’ apartment.  Root knows they’re there, it’s not like they’re trying to hide it.  Shaw takes her position in front of the building. She scans the area, hyper-vigilant.  Logically, she knows Root has wicked skills and can hold her own.

But she also knows Root is reckless with her own life, leaping without looking, which means she needs backup and Shaw only trusts herself to protect Root.  Everyone else has their own agenda.  She sighs, she’s not sure when any of this happened.  When did she start caring about Root more than the others, or even herself?  When did she start looking forward to her presence?  When did she start wanting to be someone Root deserved? 

Shaw's also uneasy with Root's blind faith in the Machine.  She knows the Machine isn’t as concerned with Root as she is with it.  Or SHE as Root refers to it.  Shaw doesn't believe in much, certainly not some bucket of bolts with an overdeveloped ego and delusions of grandeur.  But Root believes and Shaw believes in Root.  _If I don't quiet my mind, I'll be easy pickings for Decima and Vigilance.  Might as well go knock on the door and surrender._

The next thing she knows, a protein bar lands next to her. Although startled, she's not surprised to look up and find Root staring at her through the window.  In her usual flirtatious tone, Root croons.  “I heard you skipped breakfast.”  Root asked and the Machine agreed.  When it comes to Shaw she wants to know what’s going on all the time. 

Shaw can't help but stare, although she quickly looks away.  She's still not confident Root's okay and would like to personally examine the damage Control inflicted.  But that's ridiculous.  She can already hear Root's teasing in her mind, _I love it when you make house calls, doctor,_  in a knowing voice Root thinks is sultry but is really just annoying. 

Root assures Shaw things are under control and Reese and Shaw should just “…take the day off. I’ve been doing just fine without a safety net.” Looking around her annoyingly, Shaw knows her definition of fine and Root's are nowhere near similar. 

She also finds she feels a little disappointed Root hasn't confided in her about Control directly.  But it isn't like they're gal pals or something ridiculous like that.  She just thought Root trusted her.  If push comes to shove, she has to admit she trusts Root.  Shaking her head, she pushes these thoughts aside.

Imploring, but still not looking at her, she tells Root “Look, the only reason you're not stuck in a cage right now is me. Don't make me look bad.”  She mostly succeeds at hiding the slight smile lurking on her lips. But too late she realizes she’s left herself open to Root’s teasing. 

With a musical lilt in her voice, Root replies, “I couldn't make you look bad if I tried.”  Shaw rolls her eyes, shaking her head annoyingly. _When will I learn…?_   Hungry, she reluctantly opens the protein bar and takes a bite, waiting for trouble to arrive.

Shaw's words still echoing, Root thinks maybe, just maybe, her walls are starting to crack.  Poor odds, but if they do, Root wants to be there to slide inside.  With a mildly erotic thought, she shakes her head and turns to Cyrus. 

Root instructs Cyrus to pack his things as they run out of time.  A sniper’s bullet whips through the window, shattering the mirror Root set up as a decoy.  Downstairs, Shaw looks around and spots the sniper in a window across the street from Cyrus’ apartment.  Caught off guard, she scolds herself. 

 _I should've seen that sniper before she even thought of taking that shot.  This is what happens when I let myself feel, distraction and inefficiency._ Determined to never make that mistake again, she realizes Root was right last night when she suggested Shaw focus on understanding her feelings instead of running from them. 

She heads toward the sniper; Vigilance appears and opens fire, sending agents after all of them.  As Root leads Cyrus out his apartment’s window, Cyrus remembers the sniper and hesitates before stepping onto the fire escape.  Root looks at him assuredly, “Trust me.”  Devoid of any doubt, Root knows Shaw's watching her back.  _Although I’m sure she’s telling herself it’s only about the mission,_ Root briefly muses.  Without so much as a glance out the window, she makes her way down the fire escape, bullets screeching by, trailing Cyrus after her.

Root’s noticed a quirk in the Machine.  For some reason it can never predict Shaw’s actions accurately or sometimes even at all.  So when Root relies on Shaw, it’s not because the Machine knows it will be okay.  Root has blind faith in Shaw too. 

Taking fire, Shaw finds the sniper as she sights the scope on Root. She shoots at the rifle deflecting her aim and disabling her.  The only reason she did not kill her is because they need information she can provide.  She looks forward to “persuading” her to talk.  She refuses to think about how close the sniper came to killing Root.

Harold contacts Reese with his discovery of why Vigilance is after Cyrus and attempting to disrupt Decima.  Vigilance has little information, but believes Decima is trying to rebuild Samaritan, threatening liberty and privacy on an unprecedented scale. 

As Reese looks out the window, the mysterious Greer appears with Decima agents, leading Reese to conclude Root is the least of their problems.  When he’d suggested to Shaw earlier they should just force Root to tell them what was going on, he could have sworn she reached for her gun.  He doesn’t think it was to aim it at Root.  But John trusts Shaw and his loyalty to her is inviolate.  If she trusts Root, then John has no problem with it. 

As Shaw interrogates her, Vigilance appears and kills the sniper.  The sniper worked for Vigilance and they couldn’t afford for her to be captured.

Collier contacts Shaw through the sniper’s radio, explaining he’s become intrigued by Shaw and her role in the ongoing battle with Decima.  Shaw snipes back.  “Are you guys gonna shoot again or just talk me to death?”  She's had enough talking to last her a lifetime, only willing to tolerate it for brief stints around Root.

Cornered by Collier, she quietly explains, “You're right...about all of it.  I did work for the government and I do want revenge. But if that work taught me anything it's that how you do matters as much as what you do.  And by that metric, you're all just terrorists.  And I kill terrorists.” 

There’s also one thing Collier doesn’t know that also prevents Shaw from considering working with him.  He hired someone to kill Root.  Sooner or later she’s going to pay him back for that.  Not caring to analyze any further her mental and emotional processes, she turns her mind to the task at hand.

Suddenly reaching behind her for a metal pipe, she disables Vigilance’s agents, but Collier escapes.  As she exits the warehouse, she revels in what she understands…the pleasure of the hunt, the thirst for violence, and the adrenaline rush of the danger. _Everything else is just white noise._ But even as she thinks it, she knows her connection to Root comes through loud and clear.

At the NYPD, Fusco’s protecting Cyrus when Root shows up.  Fusco always has some nickname for her that implies she’s crazy.  Today its coco-puffs.  He refuses to release Cyrus into her custody.  But Root produces a federal warrant she obtained under her new cover identity, courtesy of the Machine.  When his captain sees the warrant, Fusco has no choice but to let them leave. 

Expressing his dismay when he learns of current developments, Reese admonishes Fusco for releasing Cyrus to Root.  Venting his frustration, Fusco tells him, “What was I supposed to say? ‘Sorry, boss, agent King is actually a super-powered nut ball. Just ask my buddy, the urban legend.’”

Root calls Reese, assuring him Cyrus is safe with her. When Reese tries to convince her to let him protect Cyrus, Root reminds him she was there to save Reese when he needed it and would do the same for Cyrus.  “After everything we've been through together John, you really should trust me.” 

Hanging up, she wonders just what else she has to do to earn the team’s trust. Ironically, with all her walls and her anger, it’s Shaw who trusted her immediately, even when Root had just tased, drugged, and kidnapped her.  She helped her when Root asked.  At any point she could have walked away, but she stayed and protected Root.  Sure she turned her over to Finch, but it turned out to fit in nicely with the Machine’s plans anyway.

Root finally figures out what all of this is about.  Decima obtained the software for Samaritan when it stole the drives and now it’s after the chip powerful enough to run it.  She seeks Harold out.

Root tells him the Machine wants him to finish a device that will allow Root to connect to the Machine directly without having to rely on a phone or earpiece.  Decima has been interfering with their communication.

While reluctantly helping her, Finch implies Root’s only allegiance is to the Machine and not to human life.  He cautions Root that hubris is dangerous. Root can't believe what she's hearing.  “Well, if anyone would know about hubris, it would be the man who built God.”  And if Finch knew about Root's feelings for Shaw, he'd recognize his assumptions as the lies they are.

“In the first 30 minutes after Samaritan comes online, a lot of people are gonna be killed. But they're gonna start with four: you, me, your helper monkey, and Shaw.  And there won't be a damn thing anyone, including your Machine, can do to stop it.  You think I don't care about people, Harold?  I'm doing all of this to save you.”  Root's desperate need to save Shaw left unsaid.  She heads out to have the finished device implanted.

Root helps John rescue Cyrus but Decima steals the chip and she gets shot in the process.  Knowing there's no other option, she calls Shaw.  "Hey sweetie, are you busy?"  Shaw rolls her eyes even though Root can't see her.  If she had a dollar for every time Root asked her that question, she'd be sitting on a beach in Tahiti. 

"What now Root?"  Root downplays the problem.  "I could use a medical opinion.  Can you meet me at the safe house?"  Shaw immediately knows Root's wounded, more than likely shot.  Root usually tends to minor wounds herself, not wanting to hear Shaw's mocking.  Shaw sighs just for effect.  "I suppose."  She hangs up and stops to pick up her medical gear before heading to the safe house. 

When she arrives, Root's lying down in one of the bedrooms, sweating profusely.  Her pupils are dilated and her face is flushed.  Shaw examines the wound without saying a word.  She’ll have a word with John later about his lackluster performance in protecting Root.  Luckily it was a through and through, so there's no bullet to remove. 

Although she's scowling, Shaw's hands are gentle as she cleans, stitches, and bandages the wound.  "Ever hear of ducking?"  Root tries to grin but it turns into a grimace as pain rocks her body.  "That was the plan..." 

Shaw gets her a glass of water and hands her two pain pills.  Root swallows them gratefully.  "Lie still for a bit until the pills kick in."  Root starts to get up anyway, but Shaw holds her down gently but firmly.  "I'm staying right here until they do.  I don't want to have to stitch you up again."  When Finch tries to come in to check on Root, Shaw gives him a death stare and he walks out without saying a word. 

Although she'll never admit it, Shaw hates to see Root injured.  It makes her angry.  She knows it's ridiculous, but she can't help it.  She sits next to Root and Root drifts off against her will, the pain and the exhaustion catching up to her. 

When she wakes she's shocked to find Shaw snuggled up against her holding her hand.  Her heart swells with an unfamiliar feeling she doesn't have time to ponder.  She purrs.  "Ohhh Sameeeen...."  Shaw's instantly awake and yanks her hand back, glowering at Root like she's to blame.  Without a word she leaves the room, Root laughing behind her.

Root speaks to Cyrus before he leaves while Harold, Reese, and Shaw look on.  The minute Cyrus leaves with Reese, Shaw walks over to Root.  With professional detachment, she examines Root’s wound, gently pushing Root’s hair away from her face and tugging on her shirt collar.  “Keep 'em dry." Change the dressings every 72 hours.”

Root stares into Shaw’s eyes with longing, but affecting humor only says “I love it when you play doctor.” Surprisingly, Shaw doesn’t look away as they stare at each other, Root questioning and Shaw pensively. 

After a long moment, Shaw affects disinterest, releases Root’s shirt, and turns her back, aloof; but even to Shaw, it seems forced.  She walks out the door without looking back.  Inside, Root looks resignedly at Shaw’s back until the door closes behind her. Even as she feels hope flicker within her, she ruthlessly buries it. Shaw will never understand or accept what Root already knows; they belong together.

 _Perhaps it’s for the best._ The Machine requires absolute devotion and sacrifice.  Ruefully, Root remembers the day she kidnapped Shaw, engaging in harmless flirtation, igniting the spark defining their relationship.  Even as she thinks it, Root scoffs internally.  She knows the term relationship as applied to her and Shaw is a gross exaggeration.  At best, Shaw tolerates her, mostly for the sex.  _When did fun get to be something more?_   But Root knows it was never about fun.  Shaw touched something deep inside the first time she looked into her eyes. 

Feeling the weight of the mission, she sighs and turns to Harold.

Outside, Shaw exhales, only then realizing she’s been holding her breath.  She knows Root’s heading off on another mission and feels the sick feeling returning to her stomach.  Determined to stop racing away from every emotion Root evokes, she examines what she’s feeling. 

She wants Root with her, but neither one of them knows when they’ll see each other next.  She doesn’t trust the Machine to take care of Root or Root to take care of herself so she wants to be there covering Root’s back.  Mostly she knows she’ll miss Root acutely and hates the turmoil that will cause.  Determined to push her feelings aside for now, she takes a deep breath.  But the weight in her stomach and the increased beating of her heart do not abate as she walks away.

Inside Harold expresses a willingness to work with Root in their mutual aim to defeat Decima and prevent Samaritan from coming online.  Taken by surprise, Root looks at him with genuine appreciation, never expecting even this small measure of trust. 

Needing to leave immediately for Paraguay on her next mission, Fusco appears to give her a ride to the airport. “Hi Lionel,” she says without turning around. “Hey cuckoo's nest, the meter's running.” Giving Harold a thankful look, Root turns towards Fusco, handing him a 9-volt battery. “Your smoke alarm's gonna start beeping at 2:41am.”

Waiting to board, she calls Shaw from the airport.  "Shaw."  Root keeps it casual so as to not make it obvious she's calling because Shaw wants to keep in touch.  "Hey sweetie.  I'm at the airport, heading to Paraguay."  Root can feel Shaw rolling her eyes.  "I suppose you have no clue what this mission entails?"  A smile in her voice, Root croons. "You know me so well."  Shaw sighs.  "Stay safe Root."  She hangs up and Root smiles, thinking about Shaw as her plane starts to board.


	11. Wyoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So the Machine sent you into a hotbed of domestic terrorists, in the middle of nowhere, unarmed, without any type of backup, and without at least alerting Finch of your location or situation. And you went. Then, when you were critically injured, instead of arranging for medical attention, the Machine’s first priority was to destroy the anthrax; again not notifying Finch so we could help you even if the Machine wouldn’t. Did I leave anything out?”

Back in New York, Root heads to Shaw’s, calling while in transit.  Shaw answers in typical grumpy fashion and Root smiles.  “Hey Sweetie, up for some company?”  Hearing Root’s voice, Shaw’s heart skips a beat.  Casually, she says, “Where are you?”  Paying the taxicab driver, Root tells her, “Downstairs.”  Root hears a short laugh, “So much for advance warning.”  Pausing, Root considers her answer.  So far this conversation is going better than expected and certainly better than the last time Root came back from a mission.  “I missed you.  But if you’re busy I understand.”  Shaw hangs up and buzzes Root in.

Making her way upstairs gingerly, Root finds Shaw’s door slightly ajar, and walks in, dropping her stuff and taking off her coat and shoes.  Shaw comes over and shuts the door.  Root can’t help checking Shaw out.  When they lock gazes, Shaw pushes her against the wall, kissing Root like she’s reclaiming territory.  Hearing Root wince, Shaw immediately backs up.  “Are you hurt?”  Knowing Shaw will blow a gasket when she learns what happened, Root tries to side-step the question.  “You know how it is…a punch here, a kick there." Staring at Root intently, Shaw asks, "What exactly where you doing in Paraguay, Root?” Flippantly, Root responds, "Oh, that was a simple diplomatic affair.  I was only there a couple of days.  But on my way back, the Machine sent me to Wyoming on another relevant number.”

Root knows she’s only buying herself a few minutes because even if she were physically capable of sex, which she’s not, Shaw will see the wound and bruises the minute her shirt is off.  Looking at her, Shaw knows Root’s evading the question of her injuries.  She lifts up Root shirt, “Damn it Root, you’ve been shot and your wound is infected!”  Shaw guides her gently to a barstool and Root leans against it, not quite sitting.  Shaw grabs a bottle of scotch and hands it to Root, “This is going to hurt and I don’t have anything to give you for the pain, so take a deep swallow.”  

Shaw waits a few minutes for the alcohol to penetrate Root’s brain, saying nothing while she examines Root’s body for damage.  The gunshot wound is on the left side of her torso at an angle.  It obviously didn’t penetrate anything vital or Root would be dead.  She also has a fractured rib and serious contusions.  Root’s wound is haphazardly sutured and draining pus.  If Shaw’s not mistaken the bullet is still inside, close to the surface.  Clenching her jaw when sees this, she knows Root’s lucky to be alive.  How she survived without medical attention is a mystery.  Shaw’s medical training kicks in and she pushes aside her rage. 

“We need to move you to the couch.”  Helping Root lay down, Shaw walks to the closet and grabs her medical kit.  She comes back to the couch, kneeling beside Root.  Shaw retrieves a sterile scalpel, extra long tweezers, irrigation plunger, saline, nitril gloves, gauze and a sterile dressing.  Looking over Root laughs weekly, “That bad huh?”  Shaw ignores her except to tell her to take another swallow of scotch and hands her one of Bear’s rubber bones.  “Bite down.” 

Root should be in the emergency room.  But public hospitals would attract attention and they can’t risk blowing their covers or they’ll be dead anyway.  Shaw fully expects Root to pass out from the pain.  “Root, I need you to stay as still as possible.”  Not waiting for an answer, Shaw puts on the gloves and cuts the sutures; sweat breaks out on Root’s forehead and she bites down hard, squeezing her eyes shut.  Shaw uses the tweezers to grab the bullet and pulls it out as gently as possible.  At this Root screams, bucks involuntarily, and passes out.

Shaw works quickly hoping to finish before Root regains consciousness.  Using saline and the irrigation plunger, she thoroughly cleans the wound.  Shaw realizes the wound needs to stay open to help stop the infection.  It’s not a good idea to use antiseptics on open wounds so Shaw applies the sterile dressing loosely so the wound can drain freely.    There’s nothing to be done about the fractured rib, other than getting Root strong pain killers to ease her breathing.  Ice for the contusions will have to wait until Root wakes up.

Shaw goes to her bedroom and grabs a blanket, covering Root.  When she wakes up they’re going to have to move her to the bed, Root’s too tall to lie on the couch comfortably.  Not wanting to leave Root’s side, Shaw sits on the floor with her back against the couch.  Having done all she can for the moment, Shaw catches her breath and thinks about Root dying.  They’ve known each other about a year, but most of the first six months were spent torturing, zip-tying, and shooting each other.  Well, Shaw shot Root, but it was sort of justifiable.  But it feels as if Root’s been a part of her life forever.  Shaw’s just started to accept and process this connection they share; losing her now would be…Shaw can’t put it into words, but it wouldn’t be good.  _Well she’s not dying today._

Root’s going to need intravenous fluids, pain killers, and antibiotics.  Shaw won’t leave Root by herself or anyone else for that matter.  Besides, it would take a couple of days to get what she needs from her contacts.  Root doesn’t have two days to spare.  Knowing she has no choice, Shaw calls Finch.

“What can I do for you Ms. Shaw?” Finch asks.  Reluctantly Shaw admits, “I need a favor and I need you to not ask any questions.”  Concerned, Finch starts, “Ms. Shaw if you’re in trouble, I can send Mr. Reese over right away…”  Alarmed, Shaw shouts, “No!”  Recognizing Shaw’s not going to be forthcoming, Harold pauses and then asks her, “What do you need?”  Relieved that’s over with, Shaw tells him.  “I need about ten bags of intravenous fluids with all the equipment necessary to set up an IV drip, the antibiotic cefazolin, and a shit-load of the pain killer dilaudid. I need them with dosage delivery devices; I’m going to administer them through an IV drip.”

Shocked, Finch wants to know who’s hurt so severely and needs the supplies.  He knows it’s not Shaw because they wouldn’t be having this conversation.  “Ms. Shaw, someone that critical needs professional medical attention.  Perhaps we could arrange for a private clinic…” Reaching her wits end, Shaw tells him, “I went to medical school.  A private clinic will take days to arrange.  Are you going to help me or not?”  Sighing, Finch agrees, “I’ll see to it myself.”  Wanting to impress upon Finch the urgency of the situation, Shaw adds, “I need it sooner rather than later Finch, preferably in the next couple of hours.  Get the Machine to help you if necessary; she owes us.”

Putting down the phone, Finch gets to work.  In the end Finch has to steal the supplies from a local hospital; the Machine providing camera layout for the emergency room, codes for the pharmacy, and a stolen car.  He arrives at Shaw’s building about three hours after receiving Shaw’s call.  Finch contacts Shaw from the car and she goes downstairs to retrieve the supplies and lug them up to her apartment. 

On the second trip Finch tells Shaw, “I’ve committed at least three felonies tonight Ms. Shaw.  I hope Ms. Groves recovers.  Let me know if you need anything else.”  Finch knows Shaw would only do all this for Root; asking for help is not a part of Shaw’s repertoire.  Not completely oblivious, Finch has seen the bond between the two intensifying and dreads the fallout if something happens to either of them.   Stunned, Shaw doesn’t confirm or deny.  She simply turns and walks away.

Shaw goes upstairs and sets up the IV.  Root wakes up as Shaw is inserting the IV catheter in her arm.  She moans in pain and tries to get up.  Shaw holds her down gently but firmly.  “Root, look at me.  You’re going to be okay, but you need to trust me.  I’m setting up an IV drip with pain medication and antibiotics.  You’ll feel relief from the pain in about 20 minutes.”  Weakly grasping Shaw’s hand, Root starts to speak, “Sam…”, but Shaw hushes her.  “Rest.   I’ll be right here.  Let me finish setting up the IV.  When the pain meds kick in we’re going to move you to the bed.” 

Shaw doesn’t sleep much and switches out the IV bags every 12 hours.  Root’s fever breaks, she’s breathing okay, and doesn’t look like a walking corpse, well not too much.  Shaw checks Root’s wound and is relieved to see it’s starting to heal.  She changes the dressing daily and the wound stops draining and looks pink, an indication of healing.  Shaw worried the wound would become necrotic and need debridement.  The antibiotic seems to be working and Root’s blood work, which Shaw made Finch take to a lab, doesn’t show any sign of infection.  Shaw applied ice to Root’s contusions for twenty minutes every hour for the first 24 hours.  There’s nothing else to be done.

Shaw calls Finch to thank him, “Finch, thanks for the help, I owe you.”  Insulted Finch tells her, “Ms. Shaw we are a team.  We do not trade favors.”  Feeling uncomfortable with the conversation, Shaw tells him “Okay, but thanks” and hangs up.

For the next three days, Root’s pretty much out of it due to the high dosage of narcotics.  Shaw knows it’s the only way to ensure Root rests and the pain of the fractured rib and the gunshot wound are excruciating; Shaw knows from experience.  She lives off take-out and watches TV until she thinks she’ll go blind.  On the fourth day, Shaw slowly decreases the pain medication and some lucidity returns to Root’s eyes.  Root starts to talk but her mouth is dry.  Shaw brings her a little water for her to sip through a straw.  Trying again, Root asks, “Sam…what happened?” Knowing now’s not the time for recriminations or anger, Shaw still tells her, restraint coloring her tone, “You got shot, failed to seek medical attention, and almost died.  You need to rest.  I’m not going anywhere.”

During the next couple of days, Root starts to recover and is able to start eating bland foods.  Her infection clears up, but the gunshot wound and her fractured rib are going to take much longer to heal.  Now that Root feels a little better, Shaw brings her food and changes her dressing and gets her demoral for the pain so she can remove the IV altogether.  Root seems relieved; now she can move around a little better on her own.  Other than taking care of her, Shaw doesn’t talk much and walks away when Root tries to explain.

Shaw’s sitting on the couch watching Shawshank Redemption for the hundredth time when Root comes over and very carefully sits on the couch at an angle to avoid putting too much pressure on her rib.  Shaw ignores her and Root finally says, “Sam…”  But before Root can continue and finally feeling she can vent her rage, Shaw gets up and paces.  Her voice laced with anger Shaw bites out, “Okay, Root.  Tell me how you managed to almost get yourself killed, why you didn’t seek medical attention, and where the hell was your precious Machine.”   

Knowing there’s no way to sugar coat it and Shaw will only become more enraged if she tries, Root tells her what happened.  “It’s not a short explanation, sweetie, so please be patient.”  Shaw glares at her clearly not appreciating Root’s playful tone.  Patience is not part of Shaw’s vocabulary, but Root hopes her need to know overrides her nature.

The Machine detected a shipment of weaponized anthrax from North Korea managed to clear customs in Oregon. South Korea obtained the live virus when an Army testing facility in Utah mistakenly sent live anthrax samples to the US military base in Osan, South Korea.  A microbiologist at the lab stole a microscopic amount of the live anthrax and sold it to an agent of the North Korean government.  By mixing the live anthrax into a media of water and nutrients, enough spores were grown by scientists in North Korea to create a lethal aerosol.

The weaponized anthrax was packaged as blood clotting spray and smuggled to China.  It was then imported from China to the US by a medical supply company.  A customs agent was bribed and the shipment was released without inspection.  It was then transported to Wyoming and delivered to a local militia group calling themselves Citizens for Freedom, who claim to be an offshoot of The Watchmen, a national patriot group.  In truth the militia consists of a bunch of extremist survivalists’ intent on attacking the Federal Courthouse in Cheyenne. 

The Machine lost track of the shipment once it reached Niobrara County.  The county has hundreds of unmapped acres of private forested land.  The only way to retrieve the shipment and have it destroyed was to attempt to locate and infiltrate the militia group and steal it back.  The Machine intercepted chatter indicating the militia group’s base might be near the town of Manville, with a population of only 95 people, but over 150 acres of private forested land.  A stranger would obviously be easily spotted and raise suspicions.  Manville also has no cell phone towers or internet service coverage. 

“I hitchhiked to Manville, pretending to be a survivalist looking to join the militia group.  I set up camp on the land outside the town, and it didn’t take long for a militia member to come looking for me.  Suspicious, I was interrogated, somewhat forcefully, before they took me to the camp to let their leader decide whether I should be accepted into the group or killed.” So far Shaw listens without interrupting, but Root can see the anger building in the tautness of her muscles and the deadly look in her eyes.  Root decides to continue quickly before Shaw explodes.

“There were no electronics of any type in the camp. The only communication possible was through a satellite phone kept in the town.  Once I was admitted to the camp, there was no way for me to leave and I was watched closely.  Without any cameras or electronic devices, the Machine was unable to help me and we lost contact.

As I wandered the camp, it became obvious the anthrax was being stored in a heavily guarded refrigerated truck.  I observed the timing of the night patrols for a couple of days and on the third night I snuck out of my tent and made my way to the truck.  Two guards maintained constant watch at the truck itself, so I had to disable them, but the only weapon I managed to steal was a block of C4, which I couldn’t very well use without attracting the attention of everyone in a five mile radius.  My gun was confiscated when I was allowed into the camp.   

As I approached the first guard I grabbed a heavy tree branch and knocked him unconscious from behind.  But the second guard heard the noise and came to investigate.  I had taken the first guard’s gun, but firing would only bring dozens of armed people running, so I was forced into hand-to-hand combat.  I’ll spare you the details, but that’s how I ended up with a fractured rib and the bruises.  Subduing him was actually a fortuitous accident, at least for me, not for him.”  Pausing, Root looks at Shaw.  But Shaw doesn’t speak, only raising her eyebrows in a silent “and then?” 

“I was able to start the truck and drive towards the gate, but the engine noise instantly alerted everyone in the camp, and I was taking fire immediately.  One of the bullets must have penetrated the driver’s door as I crashed the gate.  Lighting the C4 with a short fuse, I tossed it out the window, hitting the first jeep chasing me, which exploded and flipped, blocking access to the road.  I made it to Denver with the truck and the Machine located a plant with an industrial incinerator.  I destroyed the anthrax and caught a flight from Denver to New York.”

Giving Shaw time to process, Root waits.  If she weren’t already seriously wounded, Shaw would probably be kicking her ass right about now.  When Shaw speaks it’s with a deadly serious expression on her face, “So the Machine sent you into a hotbed of domestic terrorists, in the middle of nowhere, unarmed, without any type of backup, and without at least alerting Finch of your location or situation.  And you went.  Then, when you were critically injured, instead of arranging for medical attention, the Machine’s first priority was to destroy the anthrax; again not notifying Finch so we could help you even if the Machine wouldn’t.  Did I leave anything out?” 

Knowing Shaw calm and quiet bodes more danger than an enraged Shaw, Root carefully nods no and doesn't say anything.  “And the butcher who tended to your gun-shot wound?” Knowing it will not make the situation any better, Root answers quickly.  “Uh, that was me.  My immediate concern was stopping the bleeding and I couldn’t exactly pull into the nearest emergency room or even drugstore for better supplies with weaponized anthrax and the militia on my trail.  So I had to use the small emergency kit I found in the truck.”

Quiet, Shaw says nothing for a long time.  Root knows it's better to wait until Shaw breaks the silence than to say anything more.  When Shaw finally speaks, she locks gazes with Root, her eyes masked of any emotion.  “You almost died Root.  Your Machine didn’t protect you and I couldn’t because you kept me in the dark.  What am I supposed to do with that?” 

Root tries to think of what she can say to reach Shaw.  “I’m sorry Sam…”  Interrupting, a steely look on her face, Shaw tells her, “No.  You don’t get to ‘I’m sorry Sam’ me.  Did you even stop to consider what it would do to me if you died like that?  You go on and on about our ‘bond’ or ‘connection’ or whatever, but when it counts, when it actually matters, it doesn’t make a damn bit of difference to you.  And even setting that aside, what about trust Root?  How can we work together without it?”  As Root opens her mouth to speak, Shaw doesn’t give her a chance, “Stop.  Don’t say another word.  I don’t want to hear it.”  Shaw stands up, puts on her jacket, and walks out the door, closing it silently behind her.

As Shaw wanders the streets of NY aimlessly, she ends up at a park with a miniature whirl.  Leaning against the support in the middle, her mind blank, she stays until nightfall.  On her way back to her place, she stops at the library and talks to Finch. 

Walking in her door, she sees Root asleep on the bed.  Shaw looks at her and tries to sort the conflicting thoughts racing through her mind, but fails.  Sighing, she walks over to the bed and sits next to a sleeping Root.  Feeling the weight shift on the bed, Root opens her eyes.  Shaw is completely shut down and Root has no idea where her head is at or what to say.  Shaw looks at her indifferently.  “Finch will be here to pick you up in an hour so you can finish recovering at the safe house.”  Without another word, she walks away and leaves the apartment.  At a complete loss, tears roll down Root’s face without a sound.


	12. I Hear You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I'm a little busy here, Root.”

Shaw hasn’t seen or spoken to Root in several weeks.  During that time, she’s come no closer to finding a way to deal with Root and what happened in Wyoming.  Shaw never tells Finch or Reese what happened and has no idea what Root may have said to them.  Shaw continues working numbers, but barely speaks unless necessary to the mission.  Finch and Reese are worried.  Shaw seems to be walling herself off from everyone.  If nothing else, Finch and Reese know something happened between Root and Shaw.  Something important.

Meanwhile Root keeps working the numbers and trying to give Shaw space.  There’s nothing Root can say to Shaw to change things.  Shaw’s right when she said Root never thought how it would affect her if something happened to Root.  But not because she doesn’t care about Shaw. 

Root never thinks of failure.  She relies on the Machine and it never crosses her mind she can die on a mission.   Root hates herself for ruining the tentative relationship that was developing before Wyoming.  Shaw lowered her guard and Root let her down again.

The team's on a mission, working to keep Vigilance from obtaining classified documents about the Machine. While involved in a shoot out, Shaw hears Root through her earpiece. While she stays focused on the armed men in front of her, Shaw feels a pressure in her chest and a sick feeling in her stomach.  Shaw hasn’t heard Root’s voice in weeks and is angry it can still affect her so strongly. 

Shaking those thoughts, Shaw answers without any inflection in her voice.  “I'm a little busy here, Root.” 

“I'm aware of your situation. That's why I called—to apologize.”  Shaw's annoyed Root’s acting like nothing’s happened between them.  “Apologize for what?” not sure she really wants to know.  Root pauses, thinking she wants to apologize for so many things.  But over an earpiece in the middle of a shoot out is definitely not the time.

Root explains.  “Vigilance keeps changing the way they communicate. I had to leak some sensitive information in order to find their latest method, which happens to be coded radio messages.”

“What kind of sensitive information?" Shaw inquires as the shootout continues. Root goes on explaining. “In my defense, I knew you and the big lug could handle yourselves.”

Shaw takes a moment to consider what Root means. “You leaked our location to Vigilance?” Shaw asks incredulously. She can’t fathom a single reason why Root would risk their lives by telling Vigilance where to find them. _I don’t know why I’m surprised.  I learned the hard way she can’t be trusted._ Dodging the brunt of Shaw’s anger, Root intercepts another message and cuts communication.

Although the team saves the number, Vigilance obtains the classified documents and leaks them to the press. The resulting scandal forces the government to shut down the Northern Lights program and the Machine reroutes the relevant numbers to Root.  Torn, Root knows this means she will be out of the country frequently and far away from Shaw.  Not that it really matters; she’s no closer to figuring out a way back for them.  But leaving without saying goodbye or trying to repair the damage she caused doesn't seem right either. Sighing Root heads to Shaw's place.


	13. The Masseuse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Breathe Root.”

Standing outside Shaw’s building, Root looks up and sees lights flickering in Shaw’s window, probably from the TV.  Knowing the front door code, she lets herself in without buzzing.  Climbing the stairs, she can’t help the increased beating of her heart or the clenching of her stomach muscles. 

Root wants Shaw back.  She wants what they have back.  If it takes putting Shaw before the Machine and keeping her in the loop against Her instructions, then so be it.  Root's ready to do anything it takes.

As she approaches the door, she hears sounds from inside the apartment.  Assuming it’s the TV, she raises her hand to knock.  But the next sound she hears definitely comes from Shaw and it’s a moan of pleasure.  Root freezes and it's like a physical blow to her stomach.  “Suzy, your fingers are magic.  I really appreciate you coming over.”  Suzy’s voice sounds indulgent when she replies.  “Anytime Shaw; you’ve got my number.”

Root feels like she’s just been sucker punched.  Her face is flushed, she feels faint and takes a step away from the door.  But taking a deep breath, she decides she’s not leaving.  She needs to know if Shaw’s moved on, one way or another.  Before she can take a step, the door opens and some lean brunette she assumes is Suzy is standing in the doorway.  Objectively, she’s cute…a knockout really, tall with deep brown eyes.  Root takes scant satisfaction in knowing Shaw has a type and Root’s definitely it.

When Suzy doesn’t move, obviously startled, Shaw peeks around her to see what’s wrong.  Catching sight of Root, understanding dawning on Shaw’s face, she reaches around Suzy and pulls Root through the door and into the apartment, while gently pushing Suzy aside with her body.  Once Root’s inside, Shaw steps into the hallway with Suzy, closing the door behind her.  Root hears them talking softly, but the voices aren’t distinct enough to be understood.

Before stepping back into her apartment, Shaw considers what comes next.  In the last few weeks, she’s realized there’s only one thing she knows for sure.  Pushing Root away won’t change how she feels.  It’s too late for that and it won’t affect her any less intensely should something happen to Root.  But Shaw needs to protect herself and that means keeping Root at an emotional distance, like a spectator, a definite space between them. 

Sighing, she opens the door.  Root’s not sure what to do now that she’s inside.  She looks down to see her arms crossed and tightly clenched around her midriff.  She quickly loosens her grip and forces her shoulders to relax.  Hostile body posture will only shut Shaw down, and now that’s she’s here, Root really wants to understand, once and for all, where they stand.

Showing nothing on her face, Root leans with her back against the window, her thumbs hooked in her jean pockets to prevent her from crossing her arms again unconsciously.  After a few minutes, Shaw comes back in and locks the door without glancing at Root.  Walking to the refrigerator, she opens it and takes out a beer, popping the top off on the counter while pushing the door closed with her foot. 

Shaking her head, she finally turns to look at Root, noting she’s not smiling and her eyes lack the usual warmth reserved for Shaw.  It bothers her, which only makes her scowl.  She’s the one with every right to be angry.    

She walks over to the window where Root’s standing, and leans sideways on the wall so she can look at Root, close but not touching.  She takes a sip of her beer.  Root finally looks directly at Shaw and sees…nothing.  Now Root’s at a loss, like she’s lost her best friend.  She expects to see anger or maybe rage in Shaw’s eyes, but her body’s relaxed, lacking its usual tension, which leads Root to thoughts of how and who made that happen.

Knowing Shaw will wait her out indefinitely, she knows she needs to say something or this situation will quickly spiral into something neither one of them wants.  “The Machine’s rerouted the relevant numbers to me, so I’ll be gone for a while.  I just wanted to let you know and say goodbye in person.  I guess I should’ve called.” 

Taking a long drag on her beer, Shaw looks into Root’s eyes finally speaking.  “I don’t trust you anymore, but being apart isn’t making me feel any better.”  Root hates the lack of emotion in the way Shaw’s looking at her, but it’s a start and Root’s not going to walk away. 

Still incredibly angry, Shaw also knows she feels pain, like something’s torn inside.  She let Root in deep and she feels wounded like the stitches of her soul came apart.  But she’s not petty enough to want to hurt Root with lies and she’s not going to punish her.  Shaw knows what Root is thinking about Suzy and she realizes she too has the ability to wound.  Great, they have the ability to hurt each other.  _Why do people think feeling is such a good idea?  It sucks._

Looking at her briefly, her eyes revealing nothing, Shaw then says three words.  “She’s my masseuse.”  Root didn’t realize she was holding her breath and almost faints when she hears the words.  If Shaw notices she ignores it.  “I think what I saw on your face when the door opened was jealousy.  I’m not sure, because I’ve never felt it.  But I know it would make me angry if the situation were reversed." 

Seeing the relieved look on Root’s face, Shaw scowls and rolls her eyes.  Still at a loss for words but relieved beyond measure, Root actually starts to feel a little sick, like she’s been spinning in circles and came to a sudden stop.  “Breathe Root.”  Root briefly considers addressing Wyoming but knows it’s way too soon.  Finally feeling like she can speak without making a total fool of herself she tells Shaw, “I didn’t mean to violate your boundaries.  I just didn’t think before I came over.” 

Shaw rolls her eyes again.  “Look, we’re not going to have some dramatic scene here, but if our every interaction requires an expression from me of feelings other than those I have when I come, leave now.”  Wanting to make sure she’s absolutely clear, she continues with a scowl on her face.  “If you want to know something, ask.  But I may not answer, or I might and you might wish I hadn’t.  If you keep pushing me to talk about everything, I’m out.” 

Taking Shaw at her word, knowing she might be crushed by the answer, Root starts to ask a question, but her voice cracks. Getting a grip, she looks at Shaw and asks casually, “Are you having sex with other people?”  Resigned to the answer, Root’s too numb at the moment to show any emotion.  Shaw answers, but she’s definitely annoyed.  “No.”  Shaw doesn’t explain any further. 

Root’s relieved and she can finally breathe again.  She’d like to know if that means they’re exclusive or there’s just nobody else at the moment, but asking would definitely push Shaw over the ledge, making her uncomfortable and likely to unceremoniously shove Root out the door.  Shaw’s given her more than she ever expected, maybe even more than she deserves.  Root knows she’s in love with Shaw although she’s never been in love before.    

Keeping these thoughts to herself, she smiles lasciviously.  “Barring any emergencies, I have some time…”  Without another word, Shaw yanks her up roughly and shoves her into the bedroom.

Undressing, Root turns to see Shaw’s grabbed a strap on, a harness, and some lube.  Not angry exactly, Shaw feels she’s lost control of this situation with Root and it makes her extremely uncomfortable and wary.  Knowing she should just call it off like she keeps resolving to do, but knowing she won’t, Shaw feels the need to reestablish dominance.  Knowing Shaw will never hurt her in any way she doesn’t like, Root’s wet with anticipation and crawls onto the bed, on her knees, her butt resting on her ankles, staring at Shaw.  Mesmerized by Shaw’s naked body…muscled biceps, ripped abs, and perfect ass, Root doesn’t realize she’s being restrained until Shaw leans behind her, snapping padded handcuffs on her wrists, leaving her hands shackled behind her. 

Yanking her up onto her knees at the edge of the bed, Shaw leans in and claims Root’s mouth like its stolen property, holding her upper arms hard enough to leave an imprint of her fingers.  Her teeth rake Root’s lips almost hard enough to bleed; letting go without breaking skin, she replaces her teeth with her mouth, licking Root’s aching lip, before thrusting into her mouth, leaving no doubt who’s in charge.

Moving her hand from the nape of Root’s neck, Shaw places the flat of her hand on Root’s chest and slowly runs one finger down to her navel, pressing her nail hard enough to scratch but not breaking the skin.  Following her hand with her mouth, Shaw sucks on the fresh abrasions.  The trail leaves her on her knees on the floor, Root's midriff brushing herforehead.  Root can’t control the quiver in her belly, like an arrow full drawn, anticipating the moment of release.

Catching Root’s scent, Shaw swallows a moan, but can’t help sliding a finger up Root’s center, parting her folds, and grazing her clit.  It's been weeks and Shaw's thought about this, about Root in her bed, writhing and needy, more often that she'd admit to anyone.  

Looking up, seeing the need Root can’t hide, like fire on her skin, Shaw uses the same finger to retrace the path she left on Root’s pale skin, standing.  Root is so turned on, her body’s shivering, her heart’s racing, and her wetness is trickling down her thigh. 

Shaw brushes the finger wet with Root’s essence over Root’s lips and then licks them, opening her mouth slightly using only her lips so Root can taste herself.  Losing all control, Root decides she’s not ashamed to beg.  In fact, it’s more of a compulsion and not so much a decision, but Root doesn’t care, blind trust telling her Shaw won’t hurt her.

“Please Sameen… touch me.”  Root's been waiting too and now that Shaw's so close, she wants to drown in her, forget everything else.  She's willing to break herself wide open if it means Shaw will touch her, keep looking at her like she wants to devour her.  A deep keening comes from her throat and desperate for her touch, Root forgets everything except her desperate craving, like an addict in withdrawal. 

Wanting to make sure Root remembers this night wherever she may go, Shaw forces herself to slow down.  Pulling back, she waits for Root to look at her.  “Safe word?”   Groaning at the loss of contact, it takes Root a moment to understand what Shaw’s asking.  “I don’t need one, I trust you.”  Shaking her head no, Shaw repeats herself, growling, “Safe word?”  Desperate for Shaw to continue touching her, Root relents, “Persia.”  Understanding why Root chose the word, momentary softness appears in Shaw’s eyes, her desire for Root rising like a force that’s been kept in check too long.

“Lie down on your stomach.”  Root obeys her shackled hands open in submission.  It takes Shaw’s breath away, knowing Root will give her as much as she wants to take.  Running her hands down her back firmly from Root’s shoulders, over her arms, and to her ass, Shaw grips her tightly by her hips, pulling her back in a position that leaves her legs open, sex exposed, glistening with wetness that makes Shaw’s mouth water like she’s starving and Root’s the feast. 

Losing contact with Shaw’s body, Root whines, realizing Shaw stood up and left the bed.  Although she can’t turn her head, Root hears Shaw and quickly realizes what she’s stopped to do.  Anticipation heightened, Root’s entire center starts to throb.  Shaw puts on the strap-on and grabs the lube.  She climbs back in bed and positions herself behind Root, so the cock is resting under her sex.  Gripping her hips, Shaw slides it up and down Root’s center, slowly coating it with her wetness, almost chuckling when she realizes the lube’s unnecessary.   Losing her ability to utter a coherent sentence, Root tries to push down, seeking friction reflexively. 

One hand resting on her lower back, gripping her lightly, Shaw enters Root with two fingers without warning.  Shuddering, Root immediately starts riding Shaw’s hand.  Gripping her hip more firmly, Shaw holds Root in place and maintains a languid pace, gradually feeling Root opening up, like an active volcano.  Adding a third finger, she feels, more than hears, Root sob with need.   "Sameen, please..."

"Do you want me to fuck you Root?”  Shaw stills her hand momentarily, giving Root a chance to catch her breath and let her know if she wants to stop.  Instead, Root bites out, “Yes…however you want.”    Resuming a leisurely pace, Shaw allows her thumb to slowly circle Root’s perineum, resulting in another bout of begging from Root, “Sameen…please I’m begging you.” 

Root’s voice always creates a longing in Shaw she refuses to examine too closely.  Withdrawing her hand, she grips Root’s hips so hard she knows the bruises will linger a week, maybe two.  The thought momentarily makes Shaw grin smugly.  Marking Root gives her a primal surge of possessiveness.  Starting to lose control of her own need, she enters Root with her cock suddenly, like a slap, immediately establishing a wicked pace. 

Bracing herself with her head tucked into her body and her weight on her shoulders, Root pushes back just as hard, wanting to feel Shaw deeper inside her, like a battering ram.  Root’s thigh and calf muscles easily resist the momentum caused by Shaw’s pounding.   Shaw pauses briefly.  "You will not come until I say so, do you understand?"  Root's past the point of caring about anything except Shaw, but she registers the question.  "Yes."

 _I wonder what she would think if I told her I’ve never let anyone fuck me with anything more than two fingers and absolutely never from behind._ In fact, she was always the one in Shaw’s position, getting off on her latest partner’s surrender, never relinquishing her own control.  But sensation obliterates all thought when Shaw enters her ass with her thumb, filling her completely, like they were made for each other, and keeping pace with the pounding of the cock against Root’s cervix.  Riding the high, Root is torn between frantically wanting to come and never wanting the feeling to end.

The harness’ friction against her clit quickly builds a demanding need in Shaw.  She knows she needs to let Root climax before her own orgasm leaves her unable to sustain her movement.   Withdrawing her thumb gently, she shifts the angle of the cock slightly finding Root’s g-spot and pounding away relentlessly like a drum.  Lowering herself onto Root’s back, she brings her mouth to Root’s ear.  “Come for me now.”  Not expecting or waiting for an answer, she flicks her index finger over Root’s clit, sending her over the edge.

Root’s entire existence narrows to her orgasm, her body taut, pushing back against Shaw, pleasure like a violence of kindness raping her body.  Feeling Root push against her, riding her orgasm, Shaw comes hard, like she was pouring into Root.  Exhaling through her mouth, Root finally releases her breath, the waves coursing through her finally ebbing.  Shaw withdraws and backs away from Root, releasing the cuffs.   
  
Root immediately brings her hands down by her body, resting on her elbows, rotating her shoulders to stretch her tight muscles.  Her strength deserting her, she comes off her knees, stretching herself out under Shaw.  She rests her head on her hands, feeling Shaw straddling her, her wet center on Root’s ass.  Without warning, Shaw stands up. 

Uncomprehending, Root feels devastated at the loss of contact and vulnerable in a way she didn’t feel while they were fucking.  Almost immediately though, she hears the harness drop and Shaw crawls into bed next to her.  Root sees a fleeting look of affection before Shaw masks it. 

“I want you on your knees on the floor facing the bed.”  Root obeys without hesitation.  Shaw shifts so her ass rests on the edge of the bed, her center level with Root’s mouth, one knee propped up so she's open and waiting.  She props a pillow behind herself. “Now lick me without touching me with anything but your tongue.  I’ll let you know when to stop.”  Never being able to resist the taste of Shaw, Root complies without complaint.  After a couple of minutes, Shaw grabs her hair and pulls it sharply, bringing Root’s mouth harder against her center, using her grip to set the rhythm she wants.  She comes hard but silently. 

Letting go of Root, she takes a deep breath.  “Get back on the bed on your back and spread your arms and legs out.” She uses cuffs to restrain Root, leaving her spread eagle on the bed.  She takes a pillow and props up Root’s ass.  Shaw kneels between her legs.  “Your safe word still applies.  Do you want me to stop?”  Shaking her head no, Root doesn’t take her eyes off Shaw.

The danger in Shaw’s eyes makes Root’s nipples harden and she’s wet all over again, not sure what Shaw’s going to do, but more than willing to take the ride.  “I’m going to fill you completely Root.  My entire hand will be in inside you, until you can’t feel anything but me, where nothing exists but me.” 

Her words make Root hotter than she’s ever been and she wants Shaw to keep that promise.  Never taking her eyes of her, Shaw coats her hand with practically an entire tube of lube. “Have you ever been fisted before Root?”  Swallowing, Root nods no.  “Good” is the only thing Shaw says.  She knows everything before this was foreplay and Root’s definitely loosened up.

Shaw places her left hand on Root’s hip for leverage and talks her through it.  “I’m squeezing the fingers of my hand together and I’m going to push into you until I can make a fist and slide all the way in…”  Root’s practically vibrating with need and Shaw keeps her word.  She starts to slowly push into Root. 

Root feels a creeping urgency and a slight pain from being stretched little by little as Shaw’s hand goes deeper and deeper.  She’s never felt anything like it.  A sweet mix of pleasure, pain, dopamine and endorphins.  There’s a moment when she feels like Shaw’s hand is impossibly big and will rip her in half.  Breathing through it and trusting Shaw, the pain passes quickly and Shaw’s hand slips in all the way.  The pain is replaced by a strange feeling of relief and the throbbing intensity of feeling makes her feel fuller than she’s ever been before. 

Shaw rotates her fist slowly, moving in small circular motions, her knuckles against Root’s cervix.  Root feels the sheer intensity of stretching herself wide open to let Shaw deep inside her body and wants to figure out this feeling so unlike anything else.  She feels impossibly close to Shaw, vulnerable and raw.  The intimacy and trust of being that full, riding on sensations so different from anything else, is incredible. It feels like being high, post-verbal and dissociative, but its way better than drugs.  Although Root thinks she’s already addicted.

Looking at Root, knowing the unconditional submission and trust Root has given her, takes Shaw’s breath away.  “You are so beautiful.”   Barely coherent, Root whispers, “Sameen…it feels so fucking incredible.”  Shaw can feel the beating of Root’s heart and in that moment she understands in a way she never thought she could, they belong together.  Letting the pain and anger go, she feels the intensity of their connection.  The power Root lets her exercise over her humbles Shaw, feeling closer to her than she’s ever felt with anyone. 

Feeling Root’s orgasm building, Shaw uses her left hand to circle and squeeze her nipples gently and then brings it to rest on Root’s clit, stroking softly.  As her orgasm begins, Root’s muscles grip tightly like a vise around Shaw’s hand.  Shaw lets her ride it out, captivated by the look on Root’s face and the intensity between them when their eyes meet.  Once she feels Root unclenching, she whispers, “Root, I’m going to pull out slowly, okay?” 

But Root mumbles, “Not yet.”  Resuming a barely perceptible movement, Shaw doesn’t take her eyes from her.  Feeling her second orgasm building, Shaw sees the honesty in Root’s eyes and the unmistakable look of adulation as she comes.  Root closes her eyes and she sees a tear run slowly down her face.  Moved beyond words, she slowly withdraws, using her left hand to ease her right out not wanting to risk hurting Root.

She maintains contact with Root’s body while she releases the cuffs.  Once free, Root curls herself into the fetal position.  Shaw immediately wraps her body around Root as Root shakes, tears running down her face.  “Root, I’m here.  I’m not going anywhere.”  Gently, Shaw gets Root to turn into her and holds her, rubbing soft circles on her back, until Root regains her equilibrium. 

She starts to pull away, but Shaw holds her a little tighter, “No, stay here with me.”  Root settles and rests a hand on Shaw's hip, her head tucked into Shaw’s shoulder.  “Sameen…”  But she's not sure what she wants to say, overwhelmed with feelings without context.  "Everything's okay Root, I've got you.  I won't let you go."   

Shaw decides Root deserves the same honesty she’s given her.  “You know when you asked me if I was having sex with other people?”  Shaw feels Root nod yes against her shoulder.  “I haven’t slept with anyone since the day you tried to burn me with an iron.  I didn’t want to and I don’t want to now.  Okay?”  Root looks up and gives Shaw the most genuine smile Shaw has ever seen on Root’s face. 

“Uh Root...what we just shared belongs only to us.  I’ve never had an experience like that before.”  Root’s sure Shaw knows, but saying the words may make it too real, so she settles for saying, “Neither have I...and no one else will ever touch me again except you.”  Sated and emotionally exhausted, Root can’t keep her eyes open, so she doesn’t catch the wondering look on Shaw’s face.  Realizing Root’s dozed off, Shaw contemplates taking a shower.  But she decides she doesn’t want to leave her so she doesn’t move and eventually drifts of to sleep, holding her. 

Root wakes to the jarring sound of her phone vibrating on the nightstand.  Dreading leaving the warmth of the bed and Shaw’s body, she doesn’t immediately reach for the phone.  She wants to keep reality at bay for at least another few minutes.  Remembering last night, she hopes it means Shaw's forgiven her. 

She realizes they've shifted positions in their sleep.  Root’s on her stomach, but her head is resting on Shaw’s shoulder, her arm flung across her body, lying between her breasts.  Shaw’s on her back, but her arm is curled around the nape of Root’s neck, her fingers tangled in Root’s hair.  Her other arm’s crooked at the elbow, resting on top of the one Root has on her chest.

Root enjoys the feeling for a moment, wishing she could take a picture, but knowing Shaw would kill her.  She also knows she needs to extricate herself from this intimate embrace before Shaw wakes up and pushes her off the bed in her haste to escape.  Root doesn’t realize the way last night shook Shaw’s entire being.  Placing a gentle kiss on the skin beneath her mouth, Root slowly slips her hand from under Shaw’s and leaves the bed, grabbing her phone. 

The minute she starts to walk, Root realizes she's sore.  Not a little sore.  More like a ‘I can't walk normally for a week’ sore.  Not wanting to wake Shaw, she goes into the bathroom and closes the door, answering her cell. 

It hasn’t stopped ringing or gone to voicemail, so Root knows it’s the Machine, insistently demanding her attention.  Root disconnected from the Machine when she walked into Shaw’s apartment, but doesn’t feel a bit guilty.  Root’s human and she needs Shaw.  More and more lately, but Root doesn’t dwell.  She listens to Her and starts planning.

Hanging up, Root steps carefully into the shower.  Rinsing her hair, enjoying the lassitude enveloping her body, she almost chokes, coughing when she feels warm hands wrapping around her.  Recovering and looking at Shaw with her usual flirtatious smile, she tells her, “Sweetie, there are easier ways to kill me.”  Rolling her eyes, but trying to suppress her smile, Shaw mutters, “Conserves resources.”  Mischievously, Root tries to take advantage of the situation, “Well, since you’re here, you can wash my back.” 

But Shaw doesn't move, searching Root's eyes.  "Don't do that.  Don't hide from me."  She knows Root's flirtation's often a coping mechanism when she can't handle what she's feeling or she thinks Shaw can't.  But Shaw doesn't want that today, not right now.  She waits patiently until she sees the mask come down and Root lets her inside.  Not taking her eyes from Root she leans in and gently tugs on her lips, holding her face in her hands, tentatively exploring like Root's fine china she doesn't want to break.  It seems to last forever and Root understands what Shaw's saying, the conversation they're having, the promise.  Shaw pulls away slowly.     

Neither one of them up for another round, they enjoy the comfortable silence between them, taking turns soaping each other up, hands lingering under the guise of hygiene.  The water turning colder by the second, they rinse off.  Shaw steps out grabbing a towel, tossing it to Root while she pulls another one out of the bathroom closet for herself.   

As Root dries her hair, the towel obscures her face, a few drops still running down her naked torso.  Shaw allows herself a rare moment to admire her.  Root’s all sharp angles, not an ounce of fat on her body.  Shaw runs her eyes up legs whose strength she’s well acquainted with, up her tight midriff, to Root’s firm breasts, nipples erect.  Glancing up at Root’s hands, her fingers massaging her scalp through the towel, Shaw’s mesmerized by it all. 

Root’s not the most gorgeous woman Shaw has ever seen or been with, but somehow she’s the most compelling woman Shaw has ever known, addictive even.  But what really awes Shaw when she allows herself to dwell on it is the essence of Root’s self.  She’s so uniquely…well, Root.  Strong, determined, stubborn, psychotic, fanatical, maniacal, resourceful, loyal, brave, sexy, relentless, and so much more, coming together and creating someone who loves intensely, unconditionally, and selflessly.  

Shaw feels inadequate, knowing Root deserves so much more than she can give her.  Wondering if she can really let the events in Wyoming go, Shaw finds she’s more than willing to move on.  Root’s more important to her than anyone’s ever been.  As annoying and infuriating as she can be, Shaw feels safe when she’s near and calm in way she never feels when she’s not.

Shaw doesn't realize Root’s been watching her in the mirror through a gap in the towel she’s using.  Smiling sadly, Root wishes she knew who broke Shaw so completely, convincing her her way of seeing the world wasn't normal.  Root may not know what Shaw was thinking exactly, but she recognizes the look, and her heart breaks.  Knowing she needs to leave sooner rather than later on the Machine’s next assignment, she heads out to the bedroom.

Grabbing an apple from the ones Shaw always stocks, Root takes a bite, the apple crisp and juicy.  She’s never seen Shaw eat an apple and doubts she ever has, but Shaw will never admit she buys them for Root.  Smiling to herself, she grabs her jacket, running her hand along Shaw’s back as she sits on the couch watching TV.  Root’s thankful they’ve come this far. 

Keeping it light, Root teases, “Sorry to...come...and go so quickly, Sweetie, but the Machine calls.”  Hearing Root’s sexual intonation when she says “come,” Shaw rolls her eyes, not looking up.  But before Root makes it to the door, Shaw gets up and pulls their bodies together, kissing her slowly and thoroughly.  Pulling back but keeping their hands linked, Shaw looks at her.  “Root, remember how I said I’d never felt jealousy?” 

Wondering where this is going, Root looks confused.  “Well I haven’t, but I have felt possessive and I’m definitely feeling it now.  Just remember wherever you are, you’re mine.”  Smiling affectionately, Root tells her, “Sweetie, I’ve been yours for quite a while.”

Knowing how blatantly the Machine used Root for its own ends infuriates Shaw.  But for now, there’s nothing to be done.  So all she says is, “Stay safe; I’ll be pissed if you come back needing to be patched up again.  I’m not your personal doctor.”  Root laughs genuinely as she walks out the door.  “Maybe not; but I’m certainly your favorite patient.”


	14. Are We Having Fun Yet?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, great. I know a steak joint that serves a filet that's better than sex.”

After traveling around the world dealing with relevant numbers, Root finally returns to New York just as Shaw and John are wrapping up a mission.

Shaw turns to see a black motorcycle with a black cloaked driver heading their way.  Even before the motorcycle reaches them, she knows it's Root.  She feels a tightening in her stomach when Root removes her helmet.  She’s been gone too long as far as Shaw’s concerned, although she's called Shaw several times, keeping her updated on her missions.  Shaw looks at her.  _She’s hotter than ever._ Seeing right through her, Root playfully asks “Hey, kids. You miss me between drug deals?”

“Yeah, I miss you like I miss an intestinal parasite,” Shaw quips. Undaunted, Root remarks, “I love your similes. Hop on, Shaw. We've got a relevant number in Alaska. We're gonna steal a jet.”  Shaw's hooked and looks at John regretfully.  “It does sound kinda fun.” Giving Root a lingering gaze, she climbs up behind her, anticipating the rush of being with her for longer than one night.  John never had a doubt Shaw would leave with Root, although he knows better than to say so.

Root didn’t actually need Shaw for the mission, but she was tired of being away from her. The mission also involves dismantling another militia and she wants Shaw to know she intends to keep her promise, not risking her life carelessly.  Knowing the facts won’t sit well with Shaw’s pride, she never clarifies.  Feeling her body as she settles in behind her, Root suppresses a shiver and ignores she’s so turned on by Shaw’s nearness, she’s soaking wet; and not by rain.   As they lean into a turn, Shaw holds on tighter to Root’s waist. Tighter than strictly necessary, she knows.

Shaw likes being with Root in all ways.  She's hot and unpredictable and game for anything.  And although she had been worried Root would become clingy and needy if things got complicated, it never happened.  Root is strong and independent and, if anything, cockier once Shaw gave her what she wanted.  Who knew?  Their time in Anchorage was adrenaline soaked, first by the mission, then by their nights together.  The sex was different, hot and quick, and sweaty, but just as intense.

As they’re making their way back to the motel after wrapping up the mission, they stop to eat, having the best Alaskan crab legs Shaw’s ever tasted.  Root, of course, just has the crab bisque, but she does nibble off Shaw’s plate.  Without saying a word, Shaw’s been leaving some of the crab meat on her plate as she eats.  Root never gives her body enough fuel for all the calories she burns, so she’s made it her secret mission to feed Root.  To that end, she no longer grouses when Root picks food off her plate.

After eating, Shaw’s other hunger becomes increasingly urgent.  Not wanting to wait, she pulls Root over to the side of the restaurant, where a few trees hide them from view.  Leaning against one of the trees, Shaw pulls Root into her, bringing their bodies together and claiming her mouth in a fiery kiss.  It’s cold, so they’re not exactly going to have some marathon sex session, but Shaw needs to get off before she explodes.  “Root, I need you to touch me.”  Seeing her dilated pupils and heavy breathing, Root feels wanted in a way Shaw doesn’t always let her witness.  Nibbling her earlobe, Root asks her, “Where do you want me to touch you, Sam?”  Not shy, Shaw tells her. “I want your finger on my clit, stroking until I come.” 

Not wasting any more time, Root unbuttons Shaw’s pants and lowers the zipper a couple of inches, allowing access to Shaw’s clit without letting the cold air reach Shaw’s skin. She slides her hand down Shaw’s pants, using her left to brace herself against the tree, and moans into Shaw’s ear when she feels her wetness.  In order to keep their bodies as close together as possible, Root makes a loose fist and uses the knuckle and length of her finger instead of her fingertip to stroke Shaw.  It’s a completely different sensation and Shaw groans into her mouth as she feels her touch.

Root rocks her hand gently, drawing out Shaw’s orgasm slowly.  Feeling Shaw’s body tensing beneath her, she watches her face.  During climax is one of the rare times Shaw’s unguarded and she never gets tired of seeing it.  Tightly clasping her hands on the nape of Root’s neck, using her forearms to brace herself against her, Shaw comes gradually, trembling in Root’s embrace. 

Feeling her body still, Root gently removes her hand, but backs up a little, letting the cool air hit Shaw’s clit.  Shaw finds the sensation soothing, resting her head on Root’s shoulder.  Root buttons Shaw’s pants, and then looks up finding a peaceful look on her face. Shaw smiles.  “Thanks, I needed that.”  Root's laugh reaches her eyes.  “Anytime Sam, anytime.”  When they get back to the motel, Shaw spends the night showing Root just how thankful she feels.  The next day they hop a plane to Miami.

 

* * *

 

 

After they set up a meeting with the number intending to sell explosives to some nut who wants to blow up a cruise ship, Root and Shaw head back to their hotel.  This time the Machine actually arranged for a luxury suite and they’re staying on the water at the Delano.  Feeling grimy, Shaw hops in the shower immediately, letting the scalding water soothe sore muscles.  Out of the shower, she finds Root sleeping on an armchair with her neck bent at an awkward angle.  Playfully, she snaps her towel, startling Root awake.

Rolling her neck, Root looks at her.  “Sameen, there are better ways to wake me up.”  Shaw laughs mischievously. “I know, but this one was so much fun.”  Grumbling, although not upset, Root makes her way to the bathroom to take her own shower.  She’s under the shower head, so she doesn’t hear clearly, but she thinks Shaw said she was going to get some ice.

When Root comes out of the shower 20 minutes later she’s still not back.  Knowing it’s been long enough for her to find trouble, Root dresses quickly, grabs the hotel key, shoves a gun into the small of her back, and goes searching.  Root finds her at the ice machine talking to a pretty redhead.  Unlike Shaw, Root does feel jealousy and it flares quickly witnessing the scene before her. 

Shaw doesn’t do small talk, especially with strangers, yet she’s clearly been here for at least 20 minutes talking to this woman.  Knowing Shaw won’t indulge such a childish impulse, Root pretends everything’s okay, clearing her throat, “Hey sweetie, there you are...”  Unemotionally looking the woman up and down, she turns to Shaw.  “Why don’t you introduce me to your new friend?”  Rolling her eyes, Shaw does, “Root, Claire.  Claire, Root.”  Shaw may be oblivious but Claire clearly is not.  Seeing danger in Root’s eyes, she beats a hasty retreat, saying over her shoulder, “Nice to meet you both.”

Realizing she’s missed something, but not knowing what, Shaw heads back to the room with Root.  Pouring herself a scotch, she sits on the bed, grabs the clicker and turns on the TV, channel surfing.  For the first time since Shaw assured her she didn’t want to sleep with anyone else, Root feels insecure.  Maybe Shaw’s getting bored and is looking for the excitement of someone new.  Knowing she can’t approach the issue directly, Shaw will just get angry and shut down, she decides to take a different tact.  “You know sweetie, if you find that woman attractive, I wouldn’t be opposed to a threesome.”  Stilling her body, Shaw looks at her furiously and growls, “I don’t share Root,” missing the relieved look in Root’s eyes.  

Shaw sulks for the rest of the night and Root wishes she’d just said she was jealous or, better yet, nothing at all.  Once in bed, she turns to Shaw, running her hand down her chest.  Shaw grabs her hand and firmly pushes it back. “Go to sleep Root.”  Shaw turns her back and switches off the lamp on the nightstand.  But she doesn’t object when a little while later Root snuggles into her back, and lays her hand on Shaw’s hip.  Root takes that as an encouraging sign and falls asleep with a smile on her face.

The next day Shaw’s even less talkative than usual, grunting one word answers only when necessary.  They meet with the number, convincing him dealing explosives would not be good for his health.  Afterwards, they have a drink.  Shaw’s still angry and barely looks at Root.

Trying to draw her out, Root gives Shaw a rare genuine smile, one without innuendo, almost shy.  “Thanks for being my travel buddy on these errands.” Shaw refuses to meet her eyes.  She's pissed off and Root should stop pretending nothing happened.

She answer nonchalantly.  “Sure.  It's not every day you get to beat up a militia group in Anchorage, then hop a plane to Miami.”  Even expecting it, Root feels disheartened at Shaw's blatant attempt to deflect any real emotion. She sighs internally.  Curious despite herself, Shaw continues the conversation. “So is this what you're doing from now on, you're chasing down bad guys?” Root shares her doubts with Shaw, knowing there's too much other work to be done. Glancing at Root for the first time, Shaw lets herself show genuine interest.

But Root is interrupted by the Machine and tells Shaw it’s time to go; she’s needed in St. Louis. Even though she’s mad, working with Root has become second nature, and enthusiastically (at least by Shaw’s standards) she comments, “Oh, great. I know a steak joint that serves a filet that's better than sex.” Frustrated she won’t get to explore that comment further, Root tells Shaw she’s needed elsewhere. “Yummy as that sounds, you won't be joining me. She needs you somewhere else.”

It hadn’t even crossed Shaw’s mind they won’t be going together. Shocked, she finds herself reluctant to let Root go. 

For what seems like the hundredth time to Shaw, she resolves to get Root out of her mind.  As Root resolutely walks out of the bar without glancing back, she watches her go. Angry, but not knowing why, she takes out her frustration on the perpetrator of their now completed mission.  Walking over to where he’s slumped at the bar, unconscious, she says “You should go back to dealing coke, Sonny. It's a lot safer than moving explosives.” Slamming his head against the bar with a satisfying crack, she walks away with a self-satisfied smile on her face.


	15. Trust Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “…couldn't have aimed 2 inches higher?” Huffing, Shaw retorts, “Everybody’s a critic today.”

Tormented when the Machine orders them to assassinate a congressman, Harold abandons the team. Shaw and Reese continue to work the numbers, even though Shaw is nursing a leg wound. As they walk down the street, Shaw and Reese wonder when they’ll hear from Finch, who’s been gone for over a week.

Without warning, Shaw feels a tug on her arm as she’s pulled into an alley. Reese immediately draws his gun, pointing it at the perpetrator.  Although startled Shaw knows instantly its Root so she just stares.  Root takes off her mask before John shoots her in the head. Shaw exhales. “Where the hell did you come from?”  Since John is there Shaw doesn't pull Root into a kiss although she wants to badly.Root flew in that morning from her latest mission so they hadn't had a chance to catch up.  She called Shaw from the airport before she boarded, but as usual she was down to the wire and had to board before they closed the door to the plane, so she didn't have a chance to update Shaw.

Skipping her usual playfulness, Root points to two black SUVs, which are waiting to ambush Shaw and Reese. In response to Shaw’s question, and wanting them to grasp the seriousness of the threat, Root clues them in.  “Decima trigger teams... waiting for you with no less than six sub-machine guns and one honest-to-goodness Russian RPG-7.”  The Machine always factors in past action to predict the future actions of people.  Factoring in how many times Root has placed Shaw above other concerns, the Machine always informs Root when Shaw's in trouble, knowing losing the interface significantly reduces the chances of beating Samaritan.  Ushering them to safety, Root leads them into the back of a building. Shaw following without hesitation, being trailed reluctantly by Reese.  Root takes their phones and earpieces, trashing them as she explains Samaritan is online and can track them anywhere.

Although worried about the threat, Shaw takes a moment to study Root. She’s not used to this Root; no come-ons, no witty banter, no smile on her face. These changes in Root worry her more than the menace they’re running from. _“Where’s her eternal, albeit unrealistic, optimism? Why does she appear to doubt the Machine?”_ Although she says nothing, it’s clear to Shaw Root's shaken.  Unknowingly, Root’s thoughts parallel Shaw’s. For the first time, she feels an unrelenting fear tearing her apart. She doubts herself, unsure she can keep them all safe. Unsure she can keep Shaw safe.

Root reaches inside for that feeling Shaw always inspires when they’re working together, invincibility.  But it eludes her.  Worriedly glancing at Shaw, she lays out the escape plan provided by the Machine. As she listens to Root, Shaw retreats into the emotion she understands best, anger. Anger at their predicament, anger at their enemies, anger at the Machine; but most of all, anger at the changes this situation has wrought in Root.

As they flee Decima, trying to slip past the pervasive cameras broadcasting their every move, Reese stops to answer the phone. Root implores him to forget it; they don’t have time for an irrelevant number. Caught between them, Shaw waits for Root’s lead.  John knows without saying Shaw will stick with Root. Unusual for him, he stops to think how these two think everyone else is so clueless. 

Turning his thought back to the number, Reese insists they investigate, demanding the Machine tell them the name, threatening to let Decima catch him if She doesn't. Calculating the odds and impact to the overall mission, the Machine gives Root the name Grace Hendricks, Howard’s former fiancé and the love of his life. Without question, none of them can ignore it now.

Greer has found a connection between Harold and Grace, although he doesn’t know what it is yet. He sends agents to bring her to him. Trying to keep Grace safe, Shaw and Reese join Fusco at the police station. Knowing she can help, Root gets herself arrested to gain access to the precinct.  Shaw's relieved she can now keep an eye on her.  When Root gets that maniacal gleam in her eye, it's anybody's guess what she'll do. 

Complicating their dilemma, Grace tries to flee the station not sure what’s going on or who she can trust. Intercepted by Root, Grace agrees to let them protect her, while the team refocuses on escape. Root disables the cameras in the precinct so Decima can’t track them. She then detonates a bomb down the street to create chaos as they escape in an unmarked police car. _Oh yeah,_ Shaw thinks with a smile, _I love it when things go boom!_

In the car, Shaw seeks reassurance from Root, wanting to know if they’ve successfully, if temporarily, circumvented Greer’s plan. Shaw doesn't believe in the Machine. She doesn't much care about a greater good. Finch gave her a job, one she's good at, which allows her to gratify her need to shoot people and her need for violence. But undeniably, Shaw believes in Root. Not thinking it was possible, everyday Shaw feels the pull towards her increase. 

Undeterred by Root’s distraction, Decima sends agents after Grace, crashing into their car and knocking everyone unconscious. The agent takes Grace, but John wakes up in time to prevent the agent from killing them. Off the radar, the team regroups in a diner in New Jersey. Picking a booth, Shaw automatically slides over, making room for Root, subconsciously wanting her near. Root instinctively sits next to her, understanding Shaw’s claim on her, even if she doesn’t.  Allowing a slight lowering of her guard, Shaw asks Root if they’re safe. Attempting humor, Root responds “From everything but the coffee.” But the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes and the joke falls flat.  Having brought the coffee to her mouth as Root was speaking, Shaw spits it out the minute it hits her tongue.  She’s right; it’s disgusting.

As Root and Reese discuss the next step, Shaw studies Root. Although her face remains impassive, Shaw can’t help but worry Root’s trust in the Machine will get her killed. And by extension, get Shaw killed. But she never runs from a fight and she’s not afraid of dying. If she’s going to die, there are worse places to do it and worse reasons. But nothing says she has to do it hungry, ordering pancakes as Root and John develop a plan.

Root figures out there's an area by the port which is completely blacked out; the three of them head out to investigate. Hijacking a van, they make their way to the port. _Finally,_ Shaw thinks, _I get to shoot some people._  Not wanting to get a condescending look from John, Shaw doesn’t voice the thought out loud, instead inquiring about logistics. Recognizing Shaw’s attempt at deflection, Root gives her a perceptive look, knowing exactly what she's thinking.  _She wants to shoot someone or, better yet, lots of someones,_ Root sighs.

Wanting to keep her safe, Root sends Shaw down with John to look for Grace. Before she takes a step, Shaw searches Root’s eyes, looking for a hint of what she's thinking. But although Root seems to read her without effort, Shaw never knows what’s going through her mind; well, other than sex; Root never hides those thoughts. Without a word, she turns around and follows John. As John and Shaw search for Grace, Root keeps watch topside, making an interesting discovery.

Decima is hiding computer servers that will infinitely multiply Samaritan’s capacity. As they discuss the discovery, Shaw sees a red dot appear on Root’s body. Without hesitation and unseeing in the dark, Shaw pivots and shoots, saving Root’s life. Not feeling one bit of remorse when she kills the gunman. But killing him defeats any hope of obtaining useful information by questioning him. Wanting to hug Shaw, but knowing she's not comfortable with affection, especially in front of John, Root quips instead.  "You couldn't have aimed two inches higher?” Huffing, Shaw retorts, “Everybody’s a critic today.” Not letting it show her hands are shaking, she shoves them in her pockets.

Finding an iPad on the agent, Root searches its contents with the Machine's help. She finds reference to a building in Brooklyn, which appears to be the originating point of the servers. Speculating Grace is probably being held there, they decide to go look for her. Realizing Root isn’t behind her, Shaw turns asking her “Are you coming?” Telling her the machine wants her to stay put, Root tells them they can take it from there. Not comfortable with leaving her behind, Shaw hesitates.  She searches Root's eyes wanting to make sure there isn't something she's not telling them, something that might get her killed.  But Root doesn't seem to be hiding anything and Shaw knows she won’t defy the Machine, so she leaves with John.

Shaw and Reese fail to rescue Grace. Harold returns and insists on trading himself for her. Decima accepts and Harold is captured. Reese arranges for Grace to fly to Italy to start a new life. 

Reuniting with Root, Shaw and John learn Decima has lost the feeds and Samaritan is offline. Refusing to show relief at finding Root in one piece, Shaw calmly asks her what they’re doing meeting in Mount Vernon. Root explains she picked the location when Samaritan was online and they needed to be outside its reach. But Decima has lost the feeds and Root assures them the only one watching is the Machine.

Seeing the gloomy look on their faces, Root tries to cheer them up, asking them to trust her. Unconcerned with Harold’s absence and no longer needing proof to know she can trust Root, Shaw slowly looks around; making sure no hidden surprises are lurking about. Disheartened at loosing Harold, John expresses his bleak outlook, “We lost Finch, which means we lost everything.” Undeterred, Root opens the back of the truck and shows them the seven servers she stole from the port. Directing her words to John, Root tells him “Like I said... trust me.”


	16. The Calm Before The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both of them needing a break, Shaw channel surfs until she finds a movie Root might like and won’t make Shaw gag, Bad Boys.

Root and Shaw head back to Shaw’s place, leaving John to drive the truck to the safe house.  He volunteered, not wanting to be a third wheel.  Shaw and Root don’t talk, walking one behind the other a significant distance separating them so they can watch each others back, randomly changing positions to make them harder to track.  Although Samaritan lost the NSA feeds, it’s still a force to be reckoned with and its agents aren’t limited to what they see on cameras. 

The minute they walk into Shaw’s place, she turns to Root asking, “What’s going on Root?”  Sharing her frustration, Root tells her the truth.  “I’m not sure.  The Machine won’t tell me.  I suspect the servers are going to help us in some way to thwart Samaritan.”  Shaw's anger erupts.  “I’m so sick of that damn Machine running our lives, endangering us without hesitation, while refusing to give us enough information to protect ourselves.”  There’s really nothing Root can say to make her believe otherwise, especially since she also doubts the Machine’s ability to care for her assets.  Knowing this conversation is going in circles, they both take off their coats and make themselves comfortable.

As always, Shaw’s thinking of food.  “I’m going to order a pizza, you want anything specific?” As usual, Root tells her she’ll have whatever Shaw’s having.  But Shaw knows that’s code for she really doesn’t intend to eat much.  So Shaw orders a large pizza, half with everything and the other half vegetarian.  She also orders Root a salad, knowing it’s the best chance to get her to eat something.  Walking to the fridge she grabs herself a beer.  “Want a beer?”  Root declines so Shaw brings her a bottle of water instead. 

Root’s stretched out on the couch. Shaw walks over and sits on one end, lifting her feet, and then resting them on her lap once she sits.  Both of them needing a break, she channel surfs until she finds a movie Root might like and won’t make her gag, Bad Boys.  When the pizza comes they move over to the kitchen counter, leaving the movie playing in the background. As Shaw hoped, Root eats her salad and one slice of the vegetarian pizza.  Shaw eats the rest of the pizza.  Root smiles, always amazed at Shaw’s capacity for food.

While Root takes the trash outside so the loft won’t smell like pizza, Shaw goes to the bathroom to wash up.  Exhausted, she flops on the bed intending to take a nap.  When she hears the front door close, she calls out to Root, “Come take a nap with me.”  Thinking that sounds like an excellent idea, Root washes up and crawls into bed.  Lately Shaw has been more open with her affection, although she shuts down if Root points it out.  So when she gets under the covers, Shaw spoons her without comment, wrapping her arm around Root’s stomach.  Root feels a flutter in her chest, and drifts off to sleep with a smile on her face.

When Root wakes up a couple of hours later she’s on her back and Shaw’s already awake, with her head propped on her hand, gazing at her.  As she opens her eyes she catches a tender look on Shaw’s face she’s never seen before.  “Hey sweetie…have you been awake long?”

“No, just a few minutes.  I’ll be right back.”  Going to the bathroom and detouring to the kitchen to get them both some water, Shaw comes back to bed.  While she was in the kitchen, Root realized her bladder is about to burst and gets up.  Coming out of the bathroom, she sees Shaw back in bed propped up on pillows, drinking her water. She walks over and sits beside her, her legs crossed, leaning against the headboard.  Shaw hands her the water she brought for her and they sit in comfortable silence.

After a bit, Shaw turns to her and pulls her down opening her mouth slightly, gently rubbing their lips together.  Sliding down so they can get comfortable, Root lets herself enjoy the rare feeling of Shaw being caring and affectionate.  She knows Shaw adores her although she wouldn’t call it that, but Shaw’s usually too guarded to show it in this way.  Their mouths remain unhurried and exploring, tongues gently touching.  Root moans softly...Shaw runs her fingers through Root's hair and lets them trail down her back.  

As their passion builds, the need for more intimate touching sweeps them both.  Shaw edges over onto Root, her breath hot in Root's ear.  "I want taste you and lick you until you come undone."  Desire courses through Root's body coiling deep in her groin. 

Softly nibbling, Shaw makes her way from Root’s jaw, down to her breasts.  Root runs her fingers through Shaw’s hair, enjoying the silky feel.  Licking and teasing one nipple soothingly, Shaw lightly rubs the other one with her fingers.  After a couple of minutes she switches and Root feels her center throbbing in anticipation.  Shaw makes her way down, tasting and biting gently all over her body.  Root feels like she’s being worshiped and her heart swells in that moment, knowing this is Shaw’s way of expressing what she can’t with words. 

Reaching her center, Shaw reaches her hands up to link with Root’s and slowly licks the length of Root’s sex.  Not teasing, she begins a languid stroke, enjoying the taste of Root and the feel of Root’s need building.  She never ceases her movement against Root’s clit and when the orgasm hits, she feels Root arch her back, tugging on her hands, pulling Shaw into her.  Shaw lets Root enjoy the feeling, occasionally licking her clit with short barely perceptible strokes to prolong Root’s pleasure.  When Root stops shuddering, she kisses her way up Root’s inner thighs and up her chest, claiming her mouth tenderly, licking her lips slowly, and breathing in Root's unique scent.  Tasting herself in Shaw’s mouth makes Root wet again, need appearing on her face.  For once, Root is speechless, so she just gives herself up to the feelings.

Eventually Shaw braces on her biceps and pulls herself up so she’s sitting in between Root’s legs, her ass resting on her heels.  Tugging Root up, she slides her legs out, so Root is sitting on her upper thighs.  Root puts her hands around Shaw for balance, wraps her legs loosely around Shaw's waist, and leans in licking her upper lip, slightly opening her mouth and letting her tongue explore.   Shaw continues the same tender caresses as before.  Placing her hands on either side of Root’s torso, she leans Root back slightly, supporting her weight on her hands.  Bringing her mouth down to Root’s breasts, she nips lightly with her lips, blowing her breath on Root’s hard and wet nipples. 

Bringing Root back up until they’re face to face again, Shaw looks into her eyes while she enters her gradually.  Setting a steady pace, she glides her fingers in and almost out, like dimming a light, brushing Root’s clit with her thumb on every stroke.  Feeling Root’s muscles clenching her hand, Shaw turns her fingers slightly up, hitting Root’s g-spot, maintaining the same steady pace. 

Root gasps and closes her eyes as her own movements synchronize with Shaw’s.  This orgasm hits hard and Root throws her head back.  Expecting the reaction, Shaw holds Root tightly so Root doesn’t fall back.  Finally slowing the rhythm, she waits until Root stops clenching to withdraw from inside her.  Shaw guides her down, disentangling their legs. 

Shaw pulls her over until she’s resting in the crook of Shaw’s shoulder.  Relishing the peaceful moment, Root thinks about nothing but Shaw, whose fingers are caressing her back in soothing patterns.  When she tilts her head up, Shaw feels the movement and looks down into her eyes, smiling and with her feelings plain on her face.  “How’re you feeling?” 

Root wants to tell Shaw she loves her, but she doesn't think Shaw can handle it.  So instead she looks at her lovingly and breathes, “I never thought I could feel this way. It never occurred to me anyone would want to make me feel this way. Thank you.”  Smiling sweetly, again another first for Shaw, she tells Root, “Me either.”

Recovering, Root turns on her side sliding her arm under Shaw’s neck.  Shaw turns onto her side, so she can keep looking at Root.  Despite how far they’ve come, Root knows instinctively Shaw’s not ready for Root to show her how much she loves her in any way close to the one Shaw just did. So Root doesn’t say anything but leans in bringing their lips together, still softly, and runs her hand down Shaw’s side, until she reaches Shaw’s center to find it soaked with desire and need. 

Still not speaking, Root enters Shaw, maintaining eye contact, tempo quick and thrusting deep, the way she knows Shaw likes it.  Shaw moves partly onto her back, bringing Root with her, giving her more leverage to thrust deeper and harder.  Root leans on her elbow giving her a better angle and continues thrusting, seeing the feelings flashing in Shaw’s eyes.  Too soon, Shaw's orgasm hits and Root slows her pace incrementally, waiting for her to unclench before removing her hand.  As Shaw’s trembling subsides they kiss, neither one saying anything.  Eventually, Shaw pulls the blanket over them and they drift to sleep in each other’s arms.

When Shaw awakes the next morning, Root’s already gone.  But in her place Shaw finds an almond croissant and a post-it note. 

“Sam, coffee’s ready, just turn it on.  I will definitely see you later.  I’ll never forget last night. ~R~”    

Surprised to find she's disappointed Root isn't next to her, she sighs and gets up to take a shower and head to the library.  


	17. Can I Kill Her Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Control just went in for the full-court press on total world domination. Can I kill her now?”

While Shaw and Reese chase him, a Decima agent jumps to his death to avoid questioning. Exasperated, Reese wonders, “Why do these Decima guys keep killing themselves?” Suddenly appearing, Root explains as she walks towards them. “It's for the insurance.” Hearing a voice, John automatically points his gun at Root. Although startled, Shaw doesn’t have to look to know Root’s voice. 

Sauntering close enough to Shaw to inhale her scent, she continues “Each agent gets a policy when they join the organization. Get caught, get nothing. Have an accident…“ Seeing the logic, John completes her sentence, “…their next of kin gets a payday.” 

Root brushes against Shaw as she stands behind her.  Shaw’s annoyed, she knows John already suspects something's up and it makes her uncomfortable. She doesn’t want Root’s PDA, however subtle, confirming his suspicions. 

Irritated, she rolls her eyes, but says nothing as Root explains why they need to temporarily stop the search for Harold. These days Shaw avoids looking into Root’s eyes when they’re not alone because it’s getting harder and harder to mask her body's reaction.  But she does turn slightly in her direction, asking Root to explain. 

After confirming Finch is not in imminent danger, John allows himself to follow Root.  Leading them to the dead body below, Root steals the dead agent’s car key. Comfortable John can’t see her face, a smiling and amused Shaw asks the obvious, “Did you just steal a dead man’s keys?”

Root keeps walking and shifts the blame to the Machine, but she hears the laugh in Shaw’s voice.  Tearing out the satellite radio from the car, Root explains they may be able to retrieve data from its GPS transponder.  "The boys might be able to pull off some data, find out where our recently deceased Decima friend has been."  A funny feeling spreads through Shaw's chest.  She doesn't recognize it but she doesn't like it.  "The boys?"

Reluctantly, Shaw follows Root and Reese across the street to a parked truck containing the stolen servers.

Root opens the back, revealing three guys huddling around a computer. Two of them recognize Reese and Shaw from previous rescues. Casually leaning against the open truck, Root explains she’s been traveling around with the guys collecting contraband necessary to the Machine.

Caught completely off guard, Shaw has no explanation why this latest development makes her want to shoot each of the three dead.  Several times.  Root sees the look on Shaw’s face and recognizes it for what it is, jealousy.  _Interesting.  She’ll never believe she’s capable of that emotion._   Root smiles indulgently.

There's something hard in Shaw's voice.  "What are they doing here, Root?" 

"Daizo, Jason, Daniel, and I have been on the road collecting certain contraband in the tri-cities."  Shaw stares at her keenly.  “That sounds both vague and dangerous."  Not falling for her nonchalance, Root notices the glint of danger in Shaw’s eyes.  She asks John to take the guys to the safe house to work on the transponder, as Shaw walks toward her.  John agrees and leaves, knowing when it’s time to flee Root and Shaw.

Root smiles at Shaw sweetly, somewhat flattered at her jealousy.  But she'll never let anyone but Shaw touch her and Shaw knows it.  Understanding PDA makes Shaw uncomfortable, Root tries to restrain herself.  Although she still can’t control the urge to touch her, placing her hands gently on Shaw’s arms. But all she says is, “…as much as I'd love some girl talk, you need to go to The Carlton Hotel.”  Unable to help herself, Root gives Shaw a lingering look, but only says, “Trust me.” Unable to resist that particular plea from Root anymore, Shaw gives a small sigh, shaking her head.

The minute she gets in the car, Shaw calls Root.  "Miss me already sweetie?"  Shaw ignores the comment.  "You've were gone for several days, any reason you didn't mention you were traveling with those three?"  Root's not sure how to answer the question.  "I didn’t deliberately not mention it.  You know my missions frequently involve enlisting other people.  I don't talk about them either." 

She hears Shaw's sigh and imagines she's scowling and rolling her eyes.  "Three nerds wouldn't be much back-up if things went south."  Root can't keep the smile form her voice.  "We were only stealing stuff Sam, not going after Decima.  You want to tell me the real reason this is bothering you?"  The silence stretches so long Root thinks Shaw hung up.  "I don't know.  My hands automatically curled into fists and I was itching to punch them." 

Root knows Shaw is jealous but she's not sure if she can explain it.  "Sam do you trust me?"  Shaw exhales audibly.  "Yes.  What does that have to do with anything?"  Root exhales slowly.  "Everything."  She hears Shaw's frustration in her sigh.  "What you're feeling is jealousy Sameen."  Shaw scoffs.  "I am not jealous."

"Okay, but I think we can agree you didn't like the idea of my spending three days with the guys.  Was it really the days or the nights you were thinking about?"  Shaw refuses to answer.  "Right, the nights.  So it's fair to say you didn't like the idea of one of the guys coming on to me or maybe the idea I might find one of them attractive or perhaps the idea of something sexual actually happening."  Shaw stays silent but Root can hear her breathing heavily.  

"But we both know I've never done anything to make you think or feel I want someone other than you, especially in my bed.  So this isn't really about me.  It's about you.  I think somewhere inside of you there's a suspicion you're not good enough for me because you can't feel like other people feel.  So you need to hear me when I say this Sameen.  I see you clearly and who you are is exactly why I fell for you.  You're going to have to work on believing it."  Suddenly there's silence on the line and Root knows Shaw disconnected the call on purpose.  But she was surprised she listened as long as she did, so maybe some of it will sink in.    

At the hotel, Shaw reaches out to Root via her ear-wig.  Root knows Shaw needs to pretend the last hour never happened so she focuses on the mission.

Working together, they try to figure out why the Machine sent Shaw to the hotel. Serving as Root’s eyes, she describes what she sees. As Shaw notices secret service parked outside the hotel, John and Root answer a call from the Machine, receiving five numbers. Shaw then spots Control walking into the hotel.

While sitting at the café waiting for more instructions from the Machine, Root ignores John, intent on listening to Shaw. Root guides her into a hotel room full of secret service, where Shaw has to punch one agent and shoot the other, although she only kneecaps him. Acting annoyed, she tells Root, “Next time your all-seeing other half wants me to break into a room filled with Secret Service guys a little heads up would be great.” But Root knows Shaw lives for the action and is perfectly capable of a little improvisation.  Tempted to play on the words “other half,” Root resists knowing Shaw would kill her since they're not alone; but the only other half Root wants is Shaw.

Shaw uses the cameras in the Secret Service’s room to observe Control meeting with a senator, Garrison, who attempts to convince Control to work with Greer and release the NSA surveillance feeds to Samaritan. Root informs her the senator is their second number and tells her to expect more of Control’s friends. Disbelieving, Shaw asks, “That woman’s got friends?” The senator continues pressuring Control, tempting her with information on a terrorist uncovered by Samaritan during the trial run. Not liking what she’s hearing, Shaw makes sure Root heard, “They're ready to get in bed with Decima and go all 1984 on us. I mean…more than usual. Let me just shoot ‘em now.”

Root disagrees, reminding her they don’t know who the perpetrators are yet. Shaw's stunned.  “You're joking! It's Control. She almost killed you, Root.” Belatedly realizing she may have revealed too much, Shaw adds, “And me, and Harold. Should I continue?” Shaw makes a concerted effort to calm down, but realizes as far as she’s concerned, Control needs to die for the only sin that matters to her, hurting Root. Just thinking about it makes Shaw’s head hurt.

Smiling internally, Root knows exactly what’s going through Shaw’s mind.  Getting back to the business at hand, she tells Shaw to look out the window. Frustration evident in her tone, Shaw tells her what she sees. The people entering the hotel are two of the other numbers given by the Machine, and they’re also key players in the country’s defense programs. But they still don’t know who the last number might be.

Not able to let it go, Shaw again tries to convince Root to kill Control. “Okay, so... just to confirm, you're saying I can't kill Control yet.” Amusement in her voice, Root responds, “Stay the course, Sameen.” Pausing, she realizes Root calls her Sameen more and more lately.  Being ruthlessly honest, Shaw knows she likes it. Likes it and finds it hard to refuse Root anything when she says her name like they're the only ones who exist. It just feels...right.  Recovering, and not wanting to give away more than she already has, Shaw blurts out, “Fine. But just remember I told you so when all this goes pear-shaped.”

Control continues her meeting, trying to convince the President’s top advisor to return the NSA’s surveillance feeds to Samaritan. Feeling time’s running out, Shaw again reaches out to Root. “Control just went in for the full-court press on total world domination. Can I kill her now?” But Root remains unconvinced, “Not yet.” Disturbed, Shaw wonders when she started asking permission to kill someone. But she knows killing Control would be a failure of trust on her part, so she waits to see how things play out.  She'll follow Root down any path, despite knowing the Machine will inevitably get them all killed.

As Reese and Root uncover Vigilance’s involvement in recent events, Shaw spots Collier and his cohorts entering the Hotel. Growing inpatient, Reese pressures Root to fill him in on the bigger picture.  Considering the imminent arrival of Vigilance in Control’s room, Root asks Shaw to speak with Control.  Shaw, having a one-track mind, gleefully tells Root, “We'll chat about how I'm gonna kill her.” Suppressing the smile in her voice, Root’s only reply is, “Use your words.” Against her better judgment, Shaw bursts into Control’s room, attempting a rescue.

Shaw’s first concern is Root. As Reese and Shaw try to figure out Vigilance’s plan, Root calls telling her the last number is Greer. Knowing Greer has Finch, Root warns her of the danger. The Machine can’t see where Vigilance is taking the hostages, but Root tells Shaw Control’s bodyguard, Hersh, knows the location. Fearing for Shaw’s safety and knowing she’s too far away to help, her last words are “Be careful, Shaw.” Not trusting herself to speak and knowing the urgency of the situation, Shaw hangs up.

Trying to convince Hersh to cooperate and tell them the location of the hostages, and therefore Finch, Shaw tells him, “My friend is never wrong…which is as annoying as that sounds.” But she’s not all that surprised to find it doesn't annoy her anymore.

 

* * *

 

 

Unbeknownst to the others, Root has found Samaritan.  She resolves to go in alone to sabotage the servers. But when she calls Shaw to help with the hostages and attempts to hang up, Shaw desperately tries to keep her on the phone, knowing something's wrong, and guessing what Root's up to.  Root knows she should hang up, but if she’s going to die, the voice she wants to hear is Shaw’s.

With mounting fear in her voice, Shaw asks, “Wait Root, is that all? Where are you?" Simply and without explanation Root tells her, “Right where I’m supposed to be.” With a hint of pride in her voice, Shaw can’t help but ask, “You found it, didn’t you?...Samaritan.” Not wanting to confirm Shaw’s suspicions, Root mutters, “Maybe.”

Attempting to sidetrack the conversation, Root asks about Harold and listens as Shaw gives her an update. Undeterred, Shaw refuses to hang up, “…but seriously are you about to kamikaze into a Decima fortress with a bunch of nerds?”  Root wants to tell Shaw she loves her, knowing she may very well not survive the foray into Samaritan’s lair.  But Shaw knows and some dramatic last phone call isn’t what she wants to leave Shaw with should she not survive.  So she reverts to teasing.  “I didn’t know you cared Shaw. But it’s just me now.”  And that, more than anything, lets Shaw know Root doesn't expect to survive. 

Stunned, Shaw won’t let it go…“But the Machine has your back right?” Root doesn’t want her last conversation with Shaw to end in a lie, so she says nothing. With a sinking feeling, Shaw hopes she’s wrong and the Machine hasn’t deserted Root, so imploringly she asks again, “Right?” Root’s only reply is to tell Shaw where she needs to go to free the hostages. The last thing Shaw hears before Root hangs up is “…tick tock.”

Torn between Root and rescuing the hostages, Shaw knows there’s really only one option.  She stops and pulls on John's arm.  He looks back at her.  “Root’s going to get herself killed.” There's an anguished look on her face John's never seen before.  “Go.”  But there’s a buzzing in Shaw's head and a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach; she can’t catch her breath.  Struggling to get herself under control, she marvels at all the emotions Root makes her feel. Annoyance, frustration, anger…but also safe, accepted, needed.

Making her way into Samaritan’s stronghold, Root sedates the man receiving the shipment of servers at the loading dock.  A guard spots an unsuspecting Root and approaches, raising his gun and pointing at her back.  She hears a noise behind her and turns around to see Shaw rendering the guard unconscious. Stunned, Root gawks at her before allowing herself a relieved smile.  With renewed determination, she continues her preparations.

Shaw jumps up to the bed of the truck, invading Root’s personal space. Root tentatively rubs her finger over Shaw’s face.  “Looks like someone crawled in under the fence.”  Although Shaw rolls her eyes, she allows the touch, too relieved at finding Root to complain.  “Admit it; you were worried about me,” Root challenges.  Stoic, Shaw tells her she’s only worried about the mission. But she can’t stop looking at Root, like it’s the first time she’s really seen her. And she can’t quite keep the relief out of her voice. Root turns, getting back to work.

Although Root doesn’t see the expression on Shaw’s face or the lingering look she runs over her body, she recognizes the seduction in her words. “Oh, it’s going to be that kind of party.”  That comment sends Root over the edge and she turns and grabs Shaw, kissing her desperately but briefly.  Saying nothing she turns around and gets back to work, leaving Shaw a little dazed behind her.  But she feels Shaw's warm hand on her shoulder.  "I will always come for you Root."

As they make their way through the halls, servers in tow, Shaw complains she'll tear out the chip in her wrist at the first opportunity. Distracted by the gate they need to get through, Root still answers, “I’ll do yours if you do mine.” Shaw’s only response it to give her a small scowl.  They make their way to Samaritan’s servers and Root plugs hers in, explaining their purpose to Shaw.  Although the explanation doesn’t require standing so close, they both ignore it, feeling the heat of their bodies, needing and wanting the contact.  Exiting the server room, Root reminds Shaw, “We’re inside of a sleeping giant Shaw. Try not to wake it up.”

Shaw being Shaw, wants to blow up the Samaritan servers. Root explains the futility of that course of action. “This facility is one of a hundred just like it all over the world. It would take years to destroy them all and Decima will just rebuild them.”  Exasperated, Shaw wants to know the point of infiltrating Samaritan if they’re not destroying it.  “Shaw, this was never about turning it off.”  Unbelieving Shaw asks her, “Well then what the hell have we been doing?”  Having no time to explain, Root ushers them towards an exit.

Driving back to the city in a stolen car, Root sits in the backseat tending to some minor wounds while Shaw stares at her worriedly through the rearview mirror. As Shaw drives them, Root calls Harold and Reese warning them to evacuate the library. Confused, Harold can only think of one reason they’d need new identities, “I take it your plan to stop Samaritan was unsuccessful.”  But he’s forced to face the hard truth as Root reminds him, “Any chance we had of stopping it ended when we didn’t kill the congressman.”

As Samaritan hunts them, Root explains.  Samaritan is too vast and powerful to defeat with seven servers. The servers simply give Samaritan a blind spot so it can't see the seven people capable of eventually bringing it down; the team and Root’s three hackers. It was never about winning; it was only about surviving. For now, the team must disappear into their new identities, living seemingly ordinary lives.

Reaching the city, Root tells Shaw she’ll call her later to arrange a meeting.  Shaw wants to force Root to explain further, but she trusts Root knows what she’s doing.  Reluctantly, they watch each other walk away.


	18. I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sam, are you saying you love me?”

As promised, Root calls Shaw a few hours later and they meet at a nearby hotel in Samaritan's dead zone. Shaw walks in and Root’s standing by the window, barefoot, staring blankly at the traffic below.  Knowing they’re about to have a difficult conversation, Shaw makes herself comfortable, taking off her outer clothing until she’s only wearing her jeans and tank top.  Walking over to the mini-bar, she grabs a small scotch bottle and pours it into a plastic cup with a couple of ice cubes from the ice-bucket.  Draining the drink in one gulp, she looks over at Root. 

She hasn’t moved or turned, so Shaw speaks softly, “Root…”  Sighing, Root turns to look at her.  Her eyes are red-rimmed and it’s obvious she’s been crying.  Smiling sadly she says, “Give me a minute Sam, I’ll be right back.”  Shaw watches her walk into the bathroom and hears the water running.  When she comes back out, she’s composed.

Picking up an envelope from the coffee table, Root explains it contains identifications, credit cards, and information on Shaw's new cover identity.  But ignoring the cover documents she tries to hand her, Shaw refuses to leave. She's not letting Root out of her sight.  Believing they need to stay apart for a while for their own safety, Root tries to convince her it's for the best.  But Shaw's adamant. 

“Bad things happen every time we split up Root.  The Machine’s already proven it’s okay if we’re collateral damage in this war.  Do you really believe She won’t sacrifice one or both of us in a second if it helps Her defeat Samaritan?”  Root looks at her sadly. “I don’t know, but I’m scared Sam.” 

Struggling to explain herself, Shaw tries to put into words what she wants Root to know.  “I looked up love in the dictionary.”  Feeling whiplash from the total 180 the conversation just took, Root's shocked; she didn't see that one coming at all.  Absolutely baffled, Root doesn't know what to make of the statement so she just waits.  Pausing, Shaw takes a deep breath, “Used as a noun love is defined as an intense feeling of deep affection, as a verb as a deep romantic or sexual attachment.  By either, what I’m feeling is love; well maybe not the romantic part, but you get what I mean.” 

Root’s utterly confused.  She must have misunderstood what Shaw said.  “Sam, are you saying you love me?”  Looking despondent, it seems the word is torn out of Shaw’s mouth…“Yes.”  Root can’t help it, she giggles, which only makes Shaw scowl.  But it’s like Shaw’s compelled to say everything that’s been building over the last year, “I’m not leaving you.  I’m not letting you die because I wasn’t there to watch your back.  If something happens to us, it’ll be despite of our efforts, not because we walked away from each other.” 

Root smiles shyly.  "Okay Sam.  I guess She’ll just have to figure it out.”  Root knows some big romantic scene is definitely not what Shaw wants.  So she gives her a wickedly licentious smile and hooks her fingers into the belt loops on Shaw’s jeans, yanking her into a bruising kiss, but it turns into something different.  They slow down as they look at each other.  Root takes Shaw’s upper lip into her mouth, pulling gently with her lips, their tongues caressing.  Shaw’s never experienced a more sensual feeling. She strokes along Root’s lower lip lightly with her tongue, then finds Root’s again, resuming their languorous stroking.

As they continue their unhurried exploration, Root slowly lifts Shaw’s shirt, grazing her hands along Shaw’s sides.  They break apart as Shaw ducks out of it, but come back together the second the shirt’s free of her body.  Her bra grazes Root’s nipples making them hard and Root moans with desire.  Shaw runs her tongue along the edge of her ear, nibbling her way back to her mouth.  As they resume exploring their mouths, Root runs her fingertips down Shaw’s back until she reaches the waistband of her jeans.  Bringing her hands between them, Root unbuttons Shaw’s jeans and gradually lowers the zipper.  She runs her tongue down Shaw’s chest to her midriff, lowering herself onto her knees and sliding Shaw’s jeans down until she steps out of them.  She stands up, admiring Shaw in her bra and boy shorts.  Root doesn’t think she’s ever seen anyone more beautiful.

Root stares intently at Shaw, asking her, “Do you trust me Sam?”  Shaw senses danger in the question, but the truth is simple.  “Yes.”  In a commanding tone Root’s never directed at Shaw, she tells her, “Go into the bedroom and get on the bed; keep your eyes closed.”  Before moving, Shaw gives her a long look, but saying nothing she does as Root instructs.   Root thinks a moment and then gathers a few things before she walks into the bedroom.  Looking at Shaw lying on the bed Root knows she’s never seen a more erotic sight.  Instead of looking passive, Shaw has her hands interlocked behind her head, her back arched slightly, with one leg bent at the knee casually resting her heel on the bed; the other stretched out slightly apart.

Putting down the things in her hands, Root closes the curtains, lights a candle, and undresses.  She picks a playlist and turns on the sound system.  Walking around to the front of the bed she whispers, ‘You can open your eyes now Sam.”  Root crawls up Shaw’s body with feline grace, nestling her body between Shaw’s legs, center to center.  Bracing herself with her hands, she hovers over Shaw, dropping her head down to taste her lips again.  Shaw removes her hands from under her head leaving her fingers interlaced and rests them on the nape of Root’s neck.  As they continue to explore each other with their tongues, Root slides her body slightly towards the end of the bed, then back, rubbing her clit against Shaw’s.  Shaw gasps and grabs Root’s hips tightly, tuning in to her rhythm as they move against each other.  Their eyes locked on each other, they continue moving, their orgasms building.  Shaw lets go first, Root following close behind.  As she collapses on top of Shaw, they catch their breaths.  Root props herself on her elbows, still lying in between Shaw’s legs, and runs her fingers through Shaw’s hair.  Holding Shaw’s face gently with her hands, she leans down and catches her lips, nibbling briefly. 

Drawing away from Shaw, Root leans back on her knees, her ass resting on her ankles.  She moves over, so she’s no longer between Shaw’s legs.  “Sameen, I want you on your stomach, turn over for me.” Root sees Shaw tense.   “Sam, I would never hurt you.”  Taking a deep breath Shaw admits, “I know, but I’ve never let anyone take control.”  Understanding, Root tells her, “Sam, we’ll do this another way if you want, but I promise you, giving me control will be the most empowering experience you’ve ever had.”    Root watches the internal debate in Shaw, waiting patiently.  Making a leap of faith, Shaw turns over. 

Taking that as permission, Root lets her weight rest on her, biting right at the sensitive spot behind her ear.  Finding Shaw’s hands, Root covers them with her own, trapping them gently.  When she bites down hard on Shaw’s well-defined traps, she hisses, surprised it makes her wet.  Shifting slightly, she lets her wet center rest on Shaw’s ass.  Still trapping Shaw's hands under her own, Root leans her weight on them, lifting herself up so she can increase the friction, loving the feel of Shaw’s ass rubbing against her clit.  Shaw moans.  Making her way down her body, Root lets go of her hands, so she can focus on Shaw’s ass.  She slides off Shaw’s boy shorts, and kneading and licking, takes a hard bite, immediately replacing her teeth with her mouth and sucking firmly.  Shaw groans, the feeling new and arousing.  Giving a final lick, Root sits up again, this time straddling Shaw so Root’s center rests right under her ass. 

Reaching over to the nightstand, Root grabs a scarf.  Gripping either end, Root bends over Shaw and slides it under her eyes.  Shaw’s hand clamps tightly over her wrist before she can make another move.  “Root…I don’t think I can.”  Root gently loosens her grip.  “Sweetie, pick a safe word.”  Root knows she’s not going to do anything remotely requiring a safe word, but it may remind Sam she doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to do or have done to her.  Shaw evidently agrees, picking “apples.”  Root can’t help but smile.  Bending over again, she ties the scarf around Shaw’s eyes.  Reaching over again to the night stand, Root grabs an ice cube from the ice bucket and puts it in her mouth, letting it melt slightly.  Taking the ice cube in her hand, she places it just below the nape of Shaw’s neck.  Shaw immediately reaches back, but Root lifts it before Shaw can dislodge it.

Expecting the move, Root laughs.  “Sameen, if you’re going to be naughty I’m going to have to restrain your hands.  Can you control yourself?”  Thinking, Shaw answers honestly, “I don’t know, but I doubt it.”  Giving her points for honesty, Root slips the ice cube back in the bucket and gets off the bed.  She goes out into the living room and grabs a zip-tie from her purse.  Coming back into the bedroom, she settles in again.  “Sam, put your hands above your head.”  For a minute, Root thinks Shaw won’t comply, but after hesitating slightly, she does.  Root zip-ties her hands and Shaw tenses again.  Root waits, but Shaw relaxes and doesn’t say anything. 

Grabbing another ice cube, Root places it in her mouth.  Holding it, Root starts at the nape of Shaw’s neck, dragging it slowly down to the small of Shaw’s back, letting the water drip down her sides.  Shaw moans; the sensation makes her nipples harden.  Rubbing the ice in a slow circle, Root then traces the path back up to Shaw’s neck, lightly blowing on the trail of water.  Shaw feels her skin tingle, like Root's stroked her spine with just the tip of her fingernails.  Root slides a little lower and runs the mostly melted cube on Shaw’s inner thighs, coming close but not letting it touch her center.  By now Shaw’s body’s trembling in anticipation, not knowing what sensation’s coming next.  She’s never felt this out of control, her pleasure completely reliant on someone else.  Root seems to know what she's thinking.  "Baby all I want to do is give you pleasure.  I want to figure out what makes you hot.  I want to satisfy every need you've ever even thought of having."  Shaw's desire ratchets exponentially at Root's words.  She's never been much impressed by anything said during sex, but just the sound of Root's voice reassures her, allowing her to relax into the thrills Root's coaxing from her body. 

Root throws the sliver of melted ice back in the bucket and leans over to blow out the candle.  Before picking it up, she pops a mentholated breath mint in her mouth.   Dipping her fingers in the wax, she brushes it on Shaw's body in a long figure eight.  Hissing when the wax touches her skin, Shaw feels her center begin to throb.   Shaw clenches the sheet under her hands and moans.  Picking up some almond oil, Root rubs it into her hands, warming it, and begins massaging Shaw thoughtfully, with long gentle movements, keeping every part of her hand connected to Shaw's back.  It's one of the most erotic feelings Shaw's ever felt and she sighs in satisfaction.  Root smiles and shifts her palms down to press on Shaw's firm glutes, softly kneading with her fingertips as she works her way to Shaw's inner thighs.  Shaw inhales sharply.  She's so wet, Root's tempted to take her right then, but she wants her possession to be one of ultimate pleasure.  Shaw groans in frustration as Root works her way up to her back without touching her sex, but she refuses to speak.  Root warms the candle wax with her hands and peels it off slowly.  The feel of the wax being stripped delivers yet another thrilling sensation and Shaw thinks she’s going to come without Root touching her sex.

Root lies down on top of Shaw, leaning over to tug on her ear sharply and kissing her neck.  Placing soft kisses all over Shaw's skin, Root slides down until she’s kneeling on the floor at the end of the bed.  “Scoot down Sameen.”  Shaw obeys, and Root guides her into a semi-kneeling pose, having Shaw leaning on her bent elbows. Root massages deeply on either side of Shaw’s anus without actually touching it.  Twitching, Shaw forgets she’s never let anyone do this before.  The act's always felt too intimate, too trusting.  She can’t describe the feeling but it’s making her desperate for Root’s touch.  Root dips a knuckle into Shaw’s wetness and uses it to rub the rim, blowing her mentholated breath over it simultaneously, making Shaw clench from the sensation.  Shocked, Shaw finds it feels incredible.

Shaw lost her ability for coherent speech a while back and feels totally in Root’s control.  Her mind only has space for Root, her body responding to her slightest touch.  Aching, Shaw does something she wouldn’t do with anyone else even if her life depended on it, “Root, please baby, I need you inside me…”  Shaw’s been seconds from death and never begged for her life.  But she’s never wanted any single thing more than she wants Root inside her right now. 

Root rarely denies Shaw anything she wants, but especially in the bedroom.  She enters Shaw forcefully from behind.  “Don’t stop Root.”  Looking at Sam, wild, out of control, sweat soaked and back arched, Root’s never loved her more.  Wanting to feel more of Root inside her, Shaw pants, “More, baby, please…more.”  Root slips in another finger, pounding hard and deep, all the while Shaw’s riding her hand frenziedly, like someone's in pursuit.  Shaw’s orgasm crashes down and takes her breath away.  She feels it through every inch of her body and it seems to last forever.  Clenching one last time, she passes out.

Root slowly withdraws.  Kissing Shaw’s neck, she cuts her loose and grabs the ice bucket, going to the bathroom.  Grabbing a small washcloth, she places ice in the center, wrapping the cloth around it.  Returning to Shaw, she places the ice on her sex, knowing she’s going to be extremely sore when she wakes up.  After 15 minutes she tosses the cloth and the ice in the trash and snuggles up to Shaw, wrapping her arms around her, Shaw’s back resting against her chest.  Covering them with the bed sheet, Root relaxes.  The Machine’s been throwing probabilities at her for the last few minutes, predicting the chaos that might result if Root insists on staying with Shaw.  Root picks up her phone and types out a text, knowing the Machine will read it.  “Figure it out. I’m not leaving her.”


End file.
